


Pacific Rim...Tintin Style

by occasional_boy_reporter



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Blackmail, Crossover, Haddock's drinking, M/M, Underage Sex, rampant cameos, sexual dreams, sexy sparring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>    Borrowing ideas from the movie Pacific Rim and the classic Adventures of Tintin series, this story imagines Tintin, Haddock and other familiar faces in a world were giant, alien monsters and man-made metal warriors duke it out for ownership of the Earth.</p><p>    Don't worry crossover haters! I'm one of you. It's really more AU...that is...er...look, just read it. You can send me rotten tomatoes if you don't like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

>   I'm not a crossover fan in general (almost a rule really) but when a Tintin/Pacific Rim crossover was requested on Dreamwidth's Tintin kink Meme, I knew I had to answer the call. Funny way to dive into a fandom.  
>   Expect cameos from multiple Tintin characters, robot/monster battle sequences, fanservice-y drama, drunken Captain angst, Snowy being a good boy, and a little bit of slash. Yeah. Slash. It's coming.  
>   Yes, there will be spelling and grammar errors. I do my best but I'm not a saint. Feel free to message me if any of the errors really bug you or you just want to help make me a better author.  
>   This ride is approximately ten chapters in length (I'm expecting a minimum ten.) So hold on for the ride or go find yourself a nice little carousal. So without further ado...YAHOOOO!  
>   Oh wait! I don't own anything. I make no profit. Please don't let Moulinsart's copyright ninjas get me!  
>   YAHOOOO!!!

   Captain Archibald Haddock misjudged the curb and nearly stumbled onto the sidewalk. An old lady scuttled out of the man’s way and frowned in disapproval of his nautical themed curses. Haddock was a long way inland, mostly because he couldn’t find a bar closer to the docks that would give him a lick of credit. The plan was to stop over in San Francisco and refuel his freighter ship before daring to cross the Pacific Ocean en route to Asia. And since he was taking a risk and travelling the ridiculously dangerous Pacific, Captain Haddock felt it only just that he should fill up on his favorite whiskey while in port. If you were going to travel anywhere in the area of the Pacific, you might as well be hammered.

   The Captain remembered a time when the Pacific had just been another ocean. He had been a young man captaining a different ship. But that was back in 2012. Back before giant monsters came pouring out of a damn inter-dimensional rift in the Pacific Ocean.

   When gargantuan aliens come springing out of the ocean, things change. Haddock abandoned the sea to become a Jaeger pilot; one of those crazy daredevils who pilot metal monsters as tall as sky-scrapers. Taking down Kaiju, those city-crushing aliens, had been his job. He had been good at it.

   Then he made a mistake.

   Haddock wanted nothing more than to already be back aboard his ship. He shoved a hand in his pocket and felt the bottle. Loch Lomond whiskey, half empty already, was a gift bought for him by some fanboy in the last bar. Even disgraced as he was, being a former Jaeger pilot still yielded some perks. Suddenly depressed, the Captain took a hearty swig.

   He’d been out of the fight long before the war against the Kaiju even ended. In 2025, the same year the Jaeger program was prematurely shut down, an American boy and Japanese girl piloted the Jaeger that finally closed the dimensional rift and ended the war. Haddock had already resigned by 2023.

   Though the breach collapsed in 2025, the victory was short-lived. Six months later, another breach opened. Then another and another. The world now knew how to mask their Jaegers and penetrate a breach using a fusion of Jaeger bodies laced with Kaiju DNA. But new portals opened as soon as others were closed and the monsters were no longer confined to the Pacific. By 2028, Kaiju attacks where coming every few weeks from multiple spots on the globe.

   Haddock was bumped by a woman with an oversized purse and staggered against a shop window. He caught a good look at himself in the dark-tinted glass. He wore the black Captain’s hat and thick, blue sweater with the anchor stitched to the chest; the same getup he’d worn the first time he was a sea Captain. But the face was so much older looking than he remembered, his beard much more unkempt. Haddock raised the whiskey bottle to his lips and knocked it back only to realize it was bone dry.

   “Now you’ve done it, Haddock,” he lamented to himself. “Gone and drunk the whole thing.”

   The Captain starred at his reflection, wondering if he might suddenly wake up and realize these last five years had been a dream.

   Out of the corner of his eye, Archibald noticed it. A single spot of red, there one second and gone the next. The Captain whirled and stretched to his toes scanning the crowd. He’d seen it. He was convinced. Not just once, but several times while he’d been docked in the last two days. Yet whenever he turned, it was just the same humdrum crowd of office workers and shoppers.

   “Blistering-“

   A shrill siren cut off his curse. The crowd on the street sent up a collective shriek of panic before bursting into frenzied movement. The Captain scowled at the people shoving past. Just over head, a red siren specifically for announcing Kaiju attacks was screaming with all its electronic might.

   Some fat man in sunglasses was jostled from the stream of humanity and plowed into the Captain. The whiskey bottle flew from Archibald’s hands and shattered against the pavement. Already forgetting the bottle was empty, the Captain cursed and threatened the streaming crowd. The squeal of tires and crunching car frames joined the din of hundreds of civilians on foot. Traffic piled up then stopped as people abandoned their cars in the street and fled for the nearest Kaiju shelter.

   Captain Haddock was busy demanding a panicked businessman replace the shattered whiskey bottle. Behind Haddock erupted a roar so powerful it shook the sidewalk and set the glass vibrating in shop windows.

   Realization finally hit his whisky-addled brain. The Captain turned. Like something from an old monster movie but much, much more realistic, a Kaiju lumbered around the corner. The 27-story monster crushed a little Syldavian restaurant under its massive foot.

   “Ahhhhh!”

   Haddock flinched away from the screaming businessman in his grasp. The slasher movie-style screaming upset the Captain’s delicate drunken state so he released the man and watched him flail as he ran. The Captain cupped his hands around his mouth turning his impressive volume up to megaphone levels and shouted at the retreating crowd. “COWARDS! You’ve got to stand up and fight!”

   Grabbing a nearby trashcan lid, Haddock climbed atop a deserted station wagon to address the Kaiju. “Listen here you big-headed beast! I’m Captain Archibald Haddock, and you’re not welcome here you…you brute! Bully!”

   The captain chucked his impromptu weapon but lost his balance and tumbled down the hood of the car. The trashcan lid landed pathetically shy of the monster's feet. Rumpled but not discouraged in the least, Haddock sprang to his feet. Changing tactics, the Captain scrambled for new insults to scream at the top of his lungs. “Assassin! Great gaitor gallute! You interplanetary iguana!”

   With a crunch of pavement, the Kaiju paused in the street to face Captain Haddock. The Captain was surprised yet terribly pleased with himself as he swaggered closer, fists up in a boxing guard.

   “There we go! Come to fight me, have you? En garde, nitwit!”

   The Kaiju dug its claws further into the road and growled. The sound rumbled through Haddock like a train rumbling through a station.

   “Oh ho! Nothing but a blowhard! Come on, landlubberscum! Volatile vegetarian!”

   The Kaiju roared with enough volume to rattle the Captains teeth in his skull.

   Archibald’s blood boiled in anticipation. In two strides, the Kaiju was close enough that Archibald had to clasp his cap to his head and lean back just to look at the thing’s ugly mug. It was all teeth in an alligator snout, fluorescent green splashes around yellow eyes, and sharp bone ridges spreading from the tip of the snout to the top of the skull. Definitely a Kaiju you’d want to attack from behind. No sooner had the Captain thought this then a massive spiked tail flicked from behind the Kaiju and scraped four floors off the nearest department store. Straggling civilians below ducked and darted away from falling debris as they tried to outrun the creature.

   The Captain stared in amazement at a man across the street who’d barely avoided being smashed by a safe like some cartoon coyote. Their eyes met and the stranger pointed frantically above the Captain. Archibald looked up to find a giant chunk of red metal soaring toward him. Before he could move, something struck him in the gut and sent him flying onto the sidewalk.

   Grunting in pain, Haddock struggled to sit up. The process dislodged more tomatoes from the vegetable stand he’d miraculously landed in and sent them skittering all over. Just a few feet away, where the Captain had been standing, stood the massive thing that had almost killed him; a giant red “H” from a neon sign.

   “Are you alright, Archie?”

   Archibald jerked left toward the voice and the move carried enough force to upset the display he sat on. The Captain, along with several crates of produce, were dumped spectacularly onto hard concrete. He batted a pesky piece of greenery away from his face determined to see the Neanderthal that had tackled him and dared call him by that old nickname.

   Skillfully picking his way through the ruined stand was a boy in a produce-smeared trench coat. Or he might have been a teen. It was impossible to say what age he might have been with a baby face that was contradicted by the square set of his shoulders. What really struck the Captain though was the reddish tuft of hair standing like an exclamation point above the rounded face. The sounds of mayhem continued all around but that red hair sparked a niggling sensation in the Captain’s head.

   Captain Haddock’s mouth hung open until his brain wrestled the feeling into a thought. “It’s you,” he finally sputtered. “You’re the one who’s been following me!”

   The boy seemed not to hear as he stepped over the Captain to check the Kaiju’s position. Two more strides would bring the creature directly on top of them. “We have to go, Archie!”

    Haddock snatched his elbow away from the boy’s grip. “No one calls me that anymore!”

    Hurt flickered across that baby face but it was immediately replaced by a hard stare. “Get up.”

    The Captain staggered to his feet, half in startled compliance and half in drunken anger that this boy would order him about.

    “We have to-“

    “Now see here-“

    A sharp crack startled the two into silence. Down the street, the pavement split and spread out in jagged ripples under the foot of the Kaiju. Its massive head cast a shadow over the street. Anger always lurked just underneath Archibald Haddock's skin, but the arrival of the Kaiju compounded with the ruined bottle of whiskey and the appearance of this bossy, little redheaded stalker positively set the Captain on fire.

  Haddock pushed the stunned boy aside and marched into the street with the Kaiju.

  “Archie! What are you doing?”

  The Captain brushed the kid off his arm, or at least tried to. Kid had a death grip!

  “I’m telling that monster what’s what,” the Captain bellowed.

  Another monstrous roar had the redheaded boy clapping hands over his ears, Haddock breathed it in to fuel his next tirade. Surprisingly strong arms squeezed the breath right out of the Captain and he only managed an indignant yelp.

  “Are you out of your mind?” The boy wrangled Haddock off the street and under a nearby awning.

  “I wasn’t finished with that Cretaceous cockatoo! That...”

  The boy gave Haddock a stern look that caused his insults to stutter to a near halt.

  “That…ah… lackadaisical lizard.”

  The Kaiju, unfazed by insults or the sudden disappearance of its tiny adversary, continued it’s rampage. Another massive stride had taken the thing’s body passed the Captain and boy but the ever swinging tail crashed into the storefront overhead. Haddock was yanked by the font of his sweater just as the window frame behind him collapsed. Glass blew outward and shattered against the Captain’s back as he wrapped the boy in his arms and spun away. They grunted in unison as they bounced off a brick wall and landed in a dazed heap back in the street.

  Haddock was the first to move. He gripped the boy who’d landed atop him and rolled them clear of the spiked tail tearing through concrete. Haddock watched the Kaiju’s tail until it was several storefronts away before looking to the boy he hovered over. “Are you alive, lad?”

  Underneath the Captain, the boy groaned and tried to raise a hand to his head. Exactly when he’d hit it was hard to tell.

  “I…yes. I’m alive.”

  Captain Haddock exhaled a stale breath. The boy shifted and Haddock remembered he was still a hands width away from that soft face. Other parts of their bodies were much closer. Hastily, Haddock stumbled to his feet and brushed glass and dust from his clothes. Only when he was sure he’d composed himself, did the Captain turn and offer a hand to the boy.

  Somewhere behind the Captain came the sound of propellers. Multiple sets judging by the racket they made. Chopper blades were replaced with the whirring of hundreds of gears and pistons then the forceful rush of air and roar of ignited fuel. Fire consumed the world for a horrible moment as missiles burst against the Kaiju’s back. Haddock clasped the boy to his chest once more to shield him from possible debris.

  A shadow passed over Haddock and he briefly thought, _A spaceship at a time like this?_ But the spaceship touched down a few blocks ahead making a crater in what was left of the street, and it turned out to be the massive foot of a Jaeger. Without ado, the giant metal warrior threw itself at the snarling Kaiju. The Jaeger grappled and wrestled the Kaiju's snout into submission while the creature flailed its massive tail.

  The appearance of the Jaeger should have elated the Captain. Instead, a cold cannonball settled in his gut as he watched the battle. To pilot a Jaeger, to be a hero; these were things Captain Archibald Haddock was no longer capable of.

 

*****

  Several drunken miles after his hasty retreat from the downtown Kaiju attack, Haddock was growing severely irritated. And the more he sobered, the more he felt the weight of his uselessness. He’d been nothing to that hulking Kaiju. He would never be a Jaeger pilot again. But that wasn’t what was really getting to Haddock. He stopped to squint at a street sign he couldn’t quite read.

  “Do you need help finding someplace?”

  Haddock slapped his face and dragged his fingers down, dramatically distorting his face. That voice was what bothered him. Well, the voice wasn’t unpleasant; a nice tenor with a slightly French accent, but it was the presence that lingered. That redheaded man/boy followed a constant three steps behind the Captain even after they’d cleared the danger zone. Haddock found he was having a hard time focusing on the sidewalk beneath him instead of the youthful figure behind him.

  “No, I can find it,” Haddock growled. “Just can’t read the signs. Damn Kaiju’s making the signs shake.”

  “Sir, the Kaiju’s gone.”

  The distinctive battle sounds had faded ten minutes ago, something the Captain just now registered. The roads were nearly deserted since people tended to stay indoors during Kaiju cleanup. He grunted and fanned his face with his cap. It was warm out and he was feeling thirsty. The boy quickened his pace to pull aside Haddock.

  “Why don’t we stop and rest someplace?”

  Haddock grunted again at the friendly suggestion. He wrestled his blue sweater over his head and used it to wipe the sweat from his face. His shoulder popped audibly and reminded him just how badly all that running and tumbling had roughed him up.

  “Archie, please.”

  There was that name again! The Captain growled and whirled to stick a broad finger into the boy’s personal space. “Why are you here?”

  “You tried to fight a Kaiju barehanded,” came the dry response. “Can’t I worry about you?”

  “No! You were following me before that weren’t you?”

  The redhead had the decency to blush a little but did not shrink away from the accusation.

  “As a matter of fact, I was.”

  “Why? Who are you?” Grabbing massive fistfuls of yellow polo and skinny red tie, Haddock pushed the young stranger against the nearest wall. Haddock vaguely worried he might give the boy another concussion. But aside from startled eyes, the boy seemed fine. The redhead’s hands settled on the Captain’s arm to keep the bear strength from crushing his collarbone.

  “My name is Tintin. I’m a reporter.”

  “A reporter? Blistering Barnacles! Another one of them trashy magazines come to slander my family name! I suppose you want a story. ‘The washed up Jaeger pilot, Archibald Haddock! Where is he now?’ That what ye want?”

  “It isn’t like that. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

  “…a drink…”

  Tintin thought he'd gotton a handle on the man by now and expected the Captain to be intrigued. Instead, Tintin was startled by the Captain’s renewed ferocity.

  “A drink from a baby-faced reporter? Did Allan send you?”

  Tintin grunted when his head hit the wall. Tired of being manhandled, the reporter brought his hands up between Haddock’s arms and knocked them aside. Tintin ducked underneath one of Haddock’s arms and, with a well-placed foot sweep, had the larger man pinned to the wall.

  Haddock stared numbly at the brick façade. He felt the warmth and weight of the boy at his back and cringed against his own thoughts. Soon enough it was gone. Haddock turned and rubbed the scratched tip of his round nose. The reporter had backed a safe distance away from any retaliation and his hands were thrown up in a placating gesture.

  “I don’t know an Allan. Please sir. Just let me buy you a drink.”

  The boy’s eyes were soft, remorseful. That should have sent the Captain on his way straight back to his ship, across the sea, anywhere in the opposite direction. But, for years, Haddock had not been good at doing what he should.

  And Haddock’s throat was dry.


	2. Chapter 2

   Just one drink with a reporter. What could it hurt? After folding like a cheap card table, Captain Haddock had a lovely little bar set in his sights. He hummed a pleasant sea shanty as he strolled across the street. A gentle but pointed “ahem” stopped him at the door. The Captain glanced over his shoulder to find Tintin waiting patiently two doors down. Leaning back, the Captain read the sign above the reporter’s door.

   Coffee Shop.

   “Ah. Yes. That kind of drink.” The Captain rubbed his beard and tried not to look too cheated.

   Reddish eyebrows were raised slightly but the reporter kept his mouth shut as he ushered the sea captain inside. Haddock slumped into a chair at the far corner already feeling as out of sorts as a sinner in Sunday school. Tintin took the time to shrug off his produce-stained trench coat and hang it on the back of his chair. He adjusted the collar of his yellow polo and tucked his tie back under his brown cardigan. Haddock suddenly felt a little underdressed. He settled for straightening his Captain’s hat and removing his ratty blue sweater from the table where he’d thrown it.

   "How do you like your coffee?”

   Haddock stopped straightening the long sleeves of his sweaty undershirt and looked from Tintin to the waiter who’d magically appeared.

   “Black. With just….a splash or two of Loch Lomond Whiskey.”

  The waiter raised a single eyebrow. Luckily, Tintin took charge before the waiter could get more opinionated.

   "Two coffees please. Sugar and cream on the side will be fine. And hold the whiskey.”

   The Captain made a face. “You’re going to bribe a man with black coffee?”

   "I’m not here to bribe you. Besides, you’ve had enough for today.”

   The Captain sputtered. How was a boy to know when he’d had enough?

   "I just have a few questions. I hope you’ll be sober enough to answer them.” It was a burn. Somehow Tintin said it with a straight face.

   Haddock refused to yield to a cocky pipsqueak. The Captain crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t feel much like talking.”

   That did the trick. The redhead frowned and smoothed his quiff in, what the Captain chose to view as, an entirely frustrated gesture. Two cups of coffee appeared on the table.

   “Anything else, gentlemen?”

   The captain cleared his throat and nodded pointedly to his cup.

   Tintin’s frown deepened and his eyes went cold. Maybe the boy wasn’t used to bargaining for his stories. Haddock scratched his beard and glanced around the room for something to stare at dispassionately.

   The waiter stood awkwardly having viewed the whole exchange. Tintin spoke without taking his eyes off the Captain. “A small bottle of Loch Lomond if you have it.”

  “I’ll need to see an ID.”

  Tintin's youthful face flushed.  Haddock chuckled. The reported dug a card out of his coat pocket and passed it to the waiter.

   When the bottle of whiskey finally made it to the table, the Captain perked up and made a grab for it. Tintin was too fast and had already whisked the bottle away with pale fingers. Haddock’s face screwed up in an incredulous pout. Tintin was not moved.

   "One drink for every question answered. Agreed?”

   Haddock grunted but nodded.

   They went on that way for a few minutes. The reporter only asked seemingly mundane questions.

   Where are you sailing?

   What goods do you carry?

   Where did you pick up your crew?

   And for every boring answer, Haddock was awarded a splash of whiskey in his coffee. When the brew was more whiskey than coffee, Tintin set the bottle aside and leaned onto the table. Haddock sensed the reporter’s change in attitude and leaned forward too.

   The boy’s eyes sparkled. Those eyes were like the sea, changing at a moment's notice. Haddock found himself leaning almost impossibly closer. Tintin smiled wryly. “I have to admit, I’m not interested in any of that.”

  Haddock blinked back most of his irritation. “Then why the blazes did you ask?”

  "I’m sorry. It seemed rude to just jump in. But now it’s time to get to the heart of the matter.” Tintin took a breath and it seemed a little bit of his heart broke as he exhaled. “You were a Jaeger pilot.”

  The Captain thumped his mug against the table and cursed almost to himself. “Blistering Barnacles! Here we go!”

   Tintin was unfazed. “You were a hero! The world watched you stop Kaiju in Honolulu, off the coast of Russia, and a half dozen missions all around to the world.”

   " _Was_ ,” the Captain whispered vehemently.  “I _was_ a hero. Not anymore.”

   "You were good.  Fearless.  Undefeated.  I idolized you!” Tintin stopped here and stared at the cup of whiskey resting against the Captains lips.  “I idolized you, Archie.”

   The boy’s tone temporarily ruined the Captain’s taste and he sat the mug down. How many times had Haddock done this in the last five years? How many times had Haddock watched someone lament over the Jaeger pilot he once was?

   “Archie Haddock might have been a hero, lad. I don’t go by that name anymore. And for very good reasons.” Haddock stood and grabbed his sweater. As an afterthought, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey too.

   “You resigned because you had an affair.”

   Haddock stopped and rubbed his brow beneath his cap. “That’s right. You know what happened. It was all over the news.”

   "They say you had an affair with a married woman.” Tintin turned in his chair to watch the Captain for any telling reaction.

   "Not just any married woman, lad." Haddock laughed at the irony of it all. " She was the wife of the director of the entire Jaeger program. It’s not a social faux pas a Jaeger pilot can come back from.”

   "But your Jaeger! The Karrie Boudjan was everything to you.” Tintin stood. Their discussion was already drawing the attention of half the coffee shop. A firm hand gripped Haddock’s arm impeding his escape.  "It wasn’t like you to forfeit your legacy like that. You were never a known ladies’ man and you certainly couldn’t abandon the Karrie Boudjan."

   "There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” the Captain countered.

   "There had to be something more significant than a little affair. What really happened five years ago?” Tintin's eyes were hard, searching.

   Haddock pried the reporter’s hand off his arm and slapped the whiskey bottle into the boy’s empty palm. It was a question that no amount of whisky could make the Captain answer truthfully so he settled for the usual spiel.

   "Five years ago, I made a mistake. I resigned and I can’t go back. That's it. Sorry to disappoint you.”

 

***** 

   The sun blinded Haddock when he stepped onto the street. It was time to get back to his ship and get the Hell off of dry land. Now which way were the docks?

   "Archie! Wait!”

   Haddock threw his hands into the air. “Don’t you ever give up, lad?”

   "It isn’t in my nature.”

   Haddock believed it.

   Tintin held his hands open pleadingly. “New dimensional rifts are opening every week.  There are more Kaiju attacks than ever. The world is calling for every Jaeger pilot they can get, we need you.  Archie, this problem is bigger than your past. We’re looking at possible extinction.”

   "It doesn’t matter.” The Captain was tired. Deflated. “When I gave up my position, I gave up all rights of ownership for the Karrie Boudjan. And thanks to the scandal, no sponsor will ever let me pilot for them.”

   "If I knew a Jaeger you could pilot, what would you say to that?”

   "I’d say you lost your damn mind. You have a multi-billion dollar robot just lying around somewhere?”

   "There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

   Haddock stared. Tintin smiled in a way that was mischievous but not malicious. Could he possibly be telling the truth? To have an unaffiliated Jaeger seemed an impossible thing.  Suppose it was tied to a nation. Piloting across borders was a politically sticky situation even in a conflict where the world was supposedly unified. But it was more of a chance than Haddock would ever have otherwise. If Captain Haddock had to be in the Pacific he’d much rather do it in a Jaeger. And if it meant that the redheaded reporter stuck around, maybe that was fine too.

   “Let me see this thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

   What kind of reporter was Tintin? Captain Archibald Haddock had asked himself this question many times over the last few hours. When Tintin led Haddock to an airfield outside San Francisco, the Captain was tempted to throw curiosity to the wind and turn right back around. The presence of a waiting helicopter only increased his reservations.

   Haddock was a man of the sea. You could even say he was well-acquainted with dry land. But if there was anything the Captain was truly not fond of, it was air travel. Of course the kid shot him a somewhat challenging smirk and Archibald practically threw himself into the belly of that damned, metal bird.

   They barely took off before the Captain was clutching both sides of his seat. Tintin had noticed his guest and former idol was looking a bit green in the face. It was difficult to tell if that was air-sickness or the Captain’s impending hangover, so Tintin simply offered him a small bag and gentle smile before joining the pilot upfront. So there sat the poor Captain, all alone, in the back of a helicopter as it flew over the Atlantic Ocean.

   Haddock drummed his fingers against his knee for what must have been the thousandth time. He found himself stretching to see into the cockpit. He’d done this a thousand times too. Archibald would stretch, catch sight of the redheaded reporter with a bulky pair of headphones clapped over his ears, and settle back into his seat. He reasoned he was anxious to speak to the lad again only to confirm that there was, in fact, a destination in mind. Haddock felt much like he’d been kidnapped into some strange adventure.

   Outside the tiny chopper window Haddock caught sight of a black mass suspiciously dotting the ocean. The closer they flew, the more the mass resembled something from Haddock's past. Soon there was no doubt. The man-made mass was a Shatterdome, a facility where Jaegers were deployed. Too many emotions churned the Captain’s stomach and he opened his paper baggy.

   The landing was smooth and Tintin took the time to thank their pilot via headset before stepping out onto the helipad. The Captain was carefully extracted by a crewman in a blue jumpsuit. Haddock waved the man away as soon as his feet hit solid ground. Tintin raised a brow at the bulging bag in Haddock’s hand. Archibald winced and handed it off to the jumpsuit man with an apologetic shrug. Jumpsuit Man was clearly not thrilled.

   Once they were away from the noisy helicopter, Tintin offered Captain Haddock a smile. “Welcome to the Red Sea Shatterdome, Captain. Does it bring back memories?”

   In his Jaeger piloting years, steel doors and concrete pillars once felt like home to Haddock. That hadn’t changed in five years. “Aye, it does.”

   “Follow me.”

   Tintin lead the Captain across the heliport and through a series of doors and elevators. “This Shatterdome was only completed two years ago. At the time, it was the first not build along the Pacific Rim. Of course, now there are Shatterdomes all along the Atlantic coastlines.”

   “Who built this one?”

   “It’s the only Shatterdome funded by two nations. Both Syldavian and Bordurian governments split the cost.”

   “Impressive considering their history of conflict.”

   Tintin seemed equally impressed by the Captain’s world knowledge. They boarded an elevator large enough for freight and continued their downward journey.

   “The cost isn’t all they split.” Tintin smiled wryly. “Even the staff is split down the middle. One Syldavian for every Bordurian. Their Jaeger –“

   “Let me guess. One Jaeger pilot from Syldavia and one from Bourdoria.”

   “So that both countries are protected equally. Exactly.”

   The elevator doors slid open revealing another corridor. Tintin walked briskly through what would have been a veritable maze to any newcomer. They stopped at an oversized set of doors with ‘authorized personnel only’ signs plastered all over them.

   “How did you wind up in this place?” The Captain ventured. “It’s obvious you’ve spent some time here.”

   “The King of Syldavia and I go back a few years.” Tintin placed his palm on a super fancy looking screen that glowed as it scanned the boy’s prints. Double doors slid apart allowing Tintin to pass. Haddock’s mouth gaped.

   “Did you say the ‘King’? You said ‘King.’”

   “I helped him out during a political conspiracy. I could tell you about it later.”

   “Oh, ok.” A small part of Haddock wondered if this kid could be for real. A larger part of Haddock hoped this kid was for real. “So this Jaeger I’m supposed to pilot belongs to the King too?”

   “Actually, the Maharaja of Gaipajama won it in a poker game.”

   "A p-p-poker game? Ma-Maharaja? Blue blistering barnacles! What kind of reporter are you?”

   Tintin laughed openly and Haddock found himself smiling in a mixture of awe and disbelief. Equally happy barking echoed through the hall and Tintin’s smile grew. A small white ball streaked around the corner and bounced straight into Tintin’s open arms.

   “Snowy!”

   The sudden commotion had startled Haddock back against the wall. His heart settled when he realized the white ball of terror was just a short-haired terrier. The dog barked and licked the young reporter all over his face. Tintin minded little as he laughed and smiled into the squirming dog’s fur. These were obvious best friends.

   “Alright, boy. That’s enough!” Tintin could not escape one last awkward too-close-to-an-open-mouth doggy kiss before getting a hand between his face and Snowy’s muzzle. “Look who I found, Snowy.”

   The dog turned to Haddock as if he understood every word. Snowy’s face screwed up and he cocked his head as he stared at the old sailor. Haddock laughed at such an intent expression on a dog and scratched behind the creature’s ears. Snowy sniffed at the Captain’s lips and tried to wriggle closer.

   “Ah, no. No kisses, thank you.”

   Snowy wasn’t after kisses. Canine nostrils picked up a peculiar smell on the Captain’s breath and Snowy was naturally intrigued. Tintin had horrible timing upon occasion. So, of course, this was the moment he chose to put Snowy on the floor and cut the dog’s exploration short. Snowy seemed to scowl.

   “Now about the Jaeger, lad.”

   “Of course!” Tintin seemed as excited as the Captain was eager. “It’s right through that door.”

   “Hold it right there!”

   Haddock came to a full body stop as not one, but two voices echoed behind him.

   “Thundering typhoons!” the Captain wailed. He was so close!

   Tintin placed a steadying hand on Haddock's arm.

   The boy looked composed but Haddock could almost feel the well-masked frustration coming off the redhead.

   Archibald was frustrated enough for the both of them. “Who in the blue blazes are these penguins?

   Two men with nearly identical faces and entirely identical suits skidded to a stop. “This is highly unusual,” spoke the first.

   “Unusually unusual,” quipped the other.

   “You must tread carefully.”

   “In full accordance with the law.”

   “There are legal landmines.”

   “Landmines of legalities, to be precise.”

   Captain Haddock couldn’t take it any longer.

   “Blistering blue thundering typhoons! Who are you? What are you jabbering about?”

   “Ah! Of course. The name is Thomson.”

   “And Thompson.”

   The men tipped their identical bowler hats.

   “They’re here to make sure we don’t break any copyright laws on the Karrie Boudjan.”

   Captain Haddock turned to Tintin slowly. “What did you say?”

   Tintin’s smile could have out shown the sun. Instead of speaking, the boy typed away at a wall-mounted keypad until the shutter door in front of them rose out of the way.

   There should have been a din caused by dozens of men welding and tinkering. Thomson and Thompson’s insistent protests should have continued to be annoying. Yet the Captain heard none of it. There, straight across, stood a twelve-story marvel of engineering. She was scratched around the edges and the blue paint was a bit faded. On the shoulder, was the worn image of a gorgeous mermaid wrapped around an anchor. It was her. Docked against the far wall, was the Captain’s old Jaeger. It was the Karrie Boudjan.

   Captain Haddock removed his cap and held it over his heart.

   One of the Thom(p)sons whistled.

   “Impressive. Shame you can’t pilot it again.”

   Archibald crunched his hat in his hand and whirled on the two men not caring which one had made the remark. Only Tintin’s arms around his waist kept the Captain’s flailing fists from connecting with the Thom(p)son’s heads.

   “Popinjays! Party crashers!”

   “I say!”

   “How rude!”

   “Not a friendly chap is he?”

   “Agreed.”

   Haddock was defeated by the banter and leaned against the redhead with all the answers. “Tintin, if I can’t pilot her, then what am I even doing here?”

   “Don’t worry, Captain.” Tintin patted the taller man’s shoulder awkwardly. “We have a plan. Come on. There’s one more person you should meet.”

   Haddock was beginning to think Tintin only knew strange characters. The thought followed that Haddock might now be one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

   Snowy trotted proudly through the halls of the Red Sea Shatterdome, the leader of a small parade. Tintin was next, followed by the two mustached men in identical suits and bowler hats who never seemed to stop spewing jumbled and inverted legal phrases. The burly sailor with the funny smelling breath brought up the rear. Snowy knew exactly which door they were looking for; it was the chipped and dented one just ahead where all the strangest noises and smells came from. And, hello, smoke! That was a new one Snowy could add to the list.

   Snowy ran to the door and barked. After all, smoke was always something Tintin wanted to know about right away. Tintin abandoned his conversation with the mustache men.

   “Great snakes! It's a fire!”

   “Fire? Are you sure?” Asked one mustache man as Tintin darted forward.

   “You know what they say about smoke and fire,” the other quipped as smoke rolled from the bottom of the door.

   “YOW!” Tintin jerked his hands away from the metal door and waved them in the air with a grimace on his face. “It’s hot!”

   “ _Of course it’s hot, silly. There’s a fire on the other side_.” Unfortunately, no one heard Snowy’s witty remark.

   “Out of the way!” Haddock shed his sweater and wrapped it around his hands before gripping the long handle.

   “What can we do?” The suits asked in unison.

   “Go get help.” Tintin gestured down the hall and the two men took off like uncoordinated rockets.

   Snowy wagged his tail. All the action was exciting! A rude little tendril of smoke squirmed its way up Snowy’s nose and he snorted and growled at it.

   “Get away from the smoke, Snowy.” Tintin scooped the little dog into his arms. At that moment, Haddock grunted and forced the heavy door handle down.

   As the door swung in, clouds of smoke poured into the hall choking Haddock, Tintin, and Snowy. On this side, the smoke glowed an eerie green. Tintin grabbed Haddock by the arm and pulled him back before he stumbled into danger.

   “It’s a laser!”

   Sure enough, a green line expanded and waned just to the right of the door. And at the business end of the laser was a flaming desk.

   “Blistering Barnacles!”

   “Professor! Professor!” Tintin was already bounding across the room to the laser’s origins, a towering pile of metal scrap and wire that made a horrible clanging noise. “Professor, turn off the laser!”

   A balding head poked out from the center of the machine. “Hello? Is someone there?”

   Tintin's voice cracked as he shouted up at the man. “The laser! TURN IT OFF!”

   The little man squinted and adjusted his round glasses. “Oh! Why hello, Tintin. What a surprise! Tell me. Does it seem a bit smoky in here? How strange. Yes, I think it definitely smells a bit-Ah! My laser!”

   A short series of banging noises later, the laser petered out. Haddock spied a fire extinguisher on the other side of the burning desk and sprang into action.

   The professor surfaced from the top of the laser base and began a tricky climb down to the floor. “Goodness! Why didn’t you tell me it was on? Someone could have been hurt.”

   Tintin sighed and placed Snowy on the floor.

   “How the blazes does this contraption work?” Haddock fumbled with the fire extinguisher pin. “Ah, got it!”

   “Tiiintiiin!” Twin voices rounded the corner.

   Tintin could see what was about to happen but only managed a single syllable warning.

   “Wait!”

   SCHPLOOSH!

   Thee extinguishers released simultaneously and covered the Thom(p)sons and Haddock in a blanket of white.

   “What have we here?”

   “To be precise, where is here? I can't see a thing!”

   “Blistering! Thundering! Barni…typhoo…phoo...phoo.” The Captain was too surprised for a full tirade.

   Haddock waved his cap to clear the air around him. At least the fire was out. Tintin took the Captain's arm and led him away from the door and the mess.

   “Haddock, this is Professor Calculus.”

   The professor was a little man with curly black hair on the side of his head and nothing on top, like some barber's crop circle. His triangle-shaped beard twitched when he smiled. Haddock wanted to be courteous to a fellow beard-wearer but this man was insane. “Is this your laser? Are you trying to kill somebody?”

   “No, no. It’s my pleasure. You must be Archibald Haddock.” Calculus took the captain’s hand in a hearty handshake. “A pleasure to meet you. A pleasure! I have so many improvements to show you!”

   Haddock’s entire face twitched and he drew back puzzled. Tintin shrugged and smiled as if used to it all. “Professor Calculus is a little hard of hearing.”

   “Power steering?” Calculus chirped. “There’s no time to talk automobiles, Tintin. There’s a Jaeger to be improved.”

   “A Jaeger?" The Captain mumbled as he slapped his cap back onto his head. "I wouldn’t let that old goat within a hundred feet of a Jaeger!”

   Tintin hid a smile and gestured for the Captain to come along as he followed Calculus around the laser. An entire wall had been converted to a mess of chalkboards, corkboards and pull-down screens each covered with equations and diagrams. That much math sent Haddock’s eyes swimming.

   The reporter made no effort to keep his voice down as he walked. “It’s true Calculus is a little absent-minded but he’s a scientific genius. He was the first to record a rift as it opened."

   “Record a rift?”

   “The holes between our world and the Kaiju’s, Calculus is the leader in that field of study.”

   “You don’t say.”

   “Here they are!” Calculus produced an oversized folder with papers jutting from every side.

   “What’s this?” Haddock flipped through the offered folder which seemed to be mostly mechanical blueprints.

   “Those are improvements for the Castafiore Emerald.”

   Captain Haddock and Tintin both quirked a brow. Had Calculus made an appropriate response in a conversation or just been lucky? Expecting to never know the answer to that, Haddock pressed on with a different question.

   “What’s the Castafiore Emerald?”

   “She’s our plan, Captain,” Tintin took a seat on a nearby desk corner.

   “Funny codename for a plan.”

   “Not just the plan exactly.” Tintin took a silent interest in the hands resting in his lap.

   Haddock stopped flipping through the files. He sensed something coming that he wouldn’t enjoy. “What is the Castafiore Emerald, lad?”

   “It’s the Jaeger’s name.”

   “The Jaeger? What Jaeger?"

   Tintin's face was a wordless apology.

   "But…I thought…the Karrie Boudjan…”

   A mustached face butted between Tintin and the Captain to chime in. “Your old partner Allan owns the rights to the Karrie Boudjan.”

   A second mustached face butted in next to the first. “To be precise, you have no rights.”

   "Well, you have rights."

   "Quite right!"

   "Just not the right rights, right?"

   "Right!"

   “Get to your point,” the Captain growled sourly.

   “I'm sorry, Haddock. I wanted to tell you in private." Tintin smoothed his quiff in, what the Captain was now sure was, a gesture of discomfort. "You know you can’t legally pilot the Karrie Boudjan, so we’re going to change her just enough to get around the copyright laws.”

   “Change her? Change my Jaeger? You can’t do a thing like that! My family’s entire fortune is tied up in that Jaeger. It's the Haddock legacy. You can’t just go renaming her and swapping out parts!"

   "Easy, Captain!"

   Haddock shrugged off the placating reporter and jabbed a finger at Snowy. "How’d you like it if I took your little dog and dyed him pink, eh? Started calling him Little Mr. Twinkles? How’d you like that, eh, pooch?”

   Snowy’s muzzle wrinkled in distaste and he hid behind Tintin’s ankles. Tintin caught the Captain’s arm hoping to impart some reason. “He would still be my Snowy.”

   "It can never be the same," Haddock muttered to himself. When he realized there were others in the room, the Captain snorted and slapped the diagrams into Professor Calculus’ chest. “Forget it.”

   “Yes, I’ll ‘get to it.” Calculus beamed. “Right away!”

   “No, you dinghy!” Haddock thundered. “FOR-GET IT.’ I don’t like it!”

   Tintin tugged lightly on the Captain's arm. “It’s the only way. Trust me, Archie.”

   One of Haddock’s thick fingers poked into Tintin’s chest and his voice rose to new levels with anger. “There you go again with the ‘Archie!’ Call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Haddock’ or nothing at all!”

   Tintin’s eyes flashed then went cold. The Thom(p)sons backed awkwardly away from the conversation. Even deaf Calculus could feel when to stay back. Passion left Haddock quickly and he considered his outburst.

   “Well, Captain Haddock,” Tintin made a point to say it slowly, “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. You’re obviously not the man I thought you were.”

   The Captain was quick to be remorseful when the redhead was involved. “Now see here, Tintin. I didn't mean to-”

   Snowy barked in reprimand.

   “You too!” Haddock pointed to Snowy. “Listen! You can change the Jaeger but it won’t change the pilot. What I'm saying is...I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’m just…I'm just no good.”

   “That’s nonsense, Captain.” Tintin retrieved the folder from Calculus and offered it to Haddock again. “We are many different people in our lifetime. If you don’t like someone you’ve been, that’s fine. That doesn’t mean there isn’t hope for who you could be. Whatever you've done, it doesn't matter. Please, Captain.”

   Tintin held the folder in outstretched hands. Haddock stared at it. Then he dared a look at Tintin’s face. It was those damn sea-colored eyes that spoke for the boy. They pleaded for Haddock to accept and, at the same time, would understand if the Captain shied away from the challenge. How could anyone say no to that face?

   “Barnacles,” the Captain muttered. He took the file and tried not to stare at Tintin’s smile.

   Calculus cleared his throat and snuck up next to the Captain. “So…we’re building the robot, yes?”

   Haddock nodded for Calculus' benefit. “Yes.”

   “YES!”

   Tintin and Haddock stared at the suddenly jubilant Thom(p)sons.

   “Er...Well, it’s good news,” stated Thomson.

   “You know, for the Earth,” added Thompson. “Well, now that that’s decided we can be on our way.”

   “Leaving so soon, gentlemen?” Tintin’s smile was sweetly ironic.

   “Oh, we’ll be back to check in now and then just to make sure things are on the up and up.”

   “May I show you out?” Tintin offered.

   “No, no!”

   “We’re very capable of getting around.”

   “Of course. Just be careful of the-“

   With double exclamations, the Thom(p)sons tripped over the spent fire extinguishers and tumbled into the hall.

   “I say! Who left these here?”

   Tintin chuckled at the Thom(p)sons departing antics.

   “There’s just one thing you’ve forgotten, lad.” Haddock handed the blueprints off to Calculus who scuttled away muttering happily.

   “Forgotten?”

   “A Jaeger isn’t meant to be piloted alone. I’ll need a copilot.”

   “Ah. Don’t worry, Captain.” There went those eyes again. Shining and shifting like nobody’s business. “I haven’t forgotten a thing. We have a meeting to attend in-“

   Tintin rolled up the left sleeve of his cardigan to glance at his watch. “Crumbs! We’re late, Captain. All your applicants are waiting.”

   “Applicants?”

   “For your copilot. Come on. We shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

   Tintin darted out the door with Snowy on his heels. Haddock followed a little slower and with distinct disappointment.


	5. Chapter 5

   It seemed the Red Sea Shatterdome was large enough that Haddock could experience each new disappointment in a completely different room. Professor Calculus’ lab contained the bitter realization there wasn’t some miracle that would allow Haddock to pilot his old Jaeger, the Karrie Boudjan. And this room, this drab concrete pit with a dusty wrestling mat in the middle, was doomed to be the place Haddock chose a new copilot.

   A dozen men were milling around the mat and even more where lined up along the catwalk that surrounded the room. Everyone on the catwalk was obviously a crewmember. They were welders, electricians, and scientists all in similar blue jumpsuits. Which meant the men on the mat in t-shirts and workout pants were there to vie for position as Haddock’s copilot. They were a faceless bunch who might as well have been part of the background.

   Tintin and Haddock had entered the depressing room nearest the catwalk’s staircase. Tintin seemed anxious to introduce Haddock to the applicants milling about, but the Captain held back like a child on the first day of school. Snowy settled on the floor after sensing this could take a moment.

   “They’re waiting for you, Captain.” Tintin’s gentle reminder produced a slight grimace in Haddock.

   From their spot in the doorway, the two had a decent view of the room ahead but no one inside would notice them unless they made themselves known. They could stay hidden forever. That was sort of Haddock’s plan. At least until he could get the reporter to come around.

   “Tintin, you and I get along alright. You’re sure you wouldn’t want to be this old sea dog’s copilot?” Haddock tried to pass it off as a joke but it sounded suspiciously like a plea.

   Tintin’s smile was kind, if a little exasperated. “Sorry, Captain. I’m a reporter remember?”

   “That’s what you keep saying,” the Captain murmured suspiciously.

   “Don’t worry. I’ve met them all. They’re good men and good fighters.”

   Haddock rubbed his bearded chin and sighed. “Hearts and fists are grand but there’s got to be a deeper connection to make a Jaeger work.”

   “Calculus assured me everyone on the list is mathematically compatible.”

   “Mathematical compatibility? This isn’t some dating website! They say it’s a neural bond but there’s more to it. You have to be…er…well you know…” The Captain was at a loss.

   “…compatible?” Tintin suggested. He smiled and shook his head. “Just give them a shot, Captain.”

   The Captain sighed. Saying something was compatible and knowing it, feeling it, were two entirely different barrels of fish. Tintin didn’t understand. How could he? After all, this was a lesson Haddock didn’t learn until he was in his thirties, and he learned it the hard way. Despite being tackled, scolded and bossed about by the younger man, Haddock already knew there was something between them. The Captain and Tintin were…compatible.

   How was Haddock to make Tintin see it? The Captain grumbled and eyed the men who joked and checked their watches in the room ahead. “I know you went to all this trouble but-“

   The unmistakable pop of a gunshot went off close enough to Haddock’s ear that he grabbed Tintin and dragged him to the ground inside the training room.

  “Hit the deck!”

   The training room exploded in a collection of gasps and startled murmurs. Haddock clapped his cap to his head and gritted his teeth waiting for the assault to end. Instead of more gunshots, or even screams, laughter rang out above the Captain. Haddock blinked repeatedly before propping himself up to glance behind. A tan young man in a black Jaeger pilot’s suit was doubled over in the doorway. Haddock was sure the pilot was the one who’d been shot until he realized the man was actually laughing hysterically.

   “Blistering Barnacles! What’s going on here?”

   “Captain! Are you alright?” Tintin was already up in a crouch.

   “What’s happened?" Haddock looked about wildly. "I heard a shot.”

   The Jaeger pilot chortled from the doorway. “’Blistering-Blistering barnacles!’ That’s great! That’s funny! I’m going to call you ‘Blistering Barnacles’ from now on.”

   “Abdullah!” Tintin chided the pilot and Snowy growled for good measure. Haddock noted how the usually composed reporter practically spat the pilot’s name. “That wasn’t funny, Abdullah. You could have hurt someone with that stunt!”

   “Relax! It’s only a toy.” Abdullah leveled the gun at Haddock and pulled the trigger. Two more heart shattering pops made the Captain flinch. Abdulllah launched into another fit of laughter at the Captain’s bewildered face. There was another, much larger man, in a pilot suit next to Abdullah. The man guffawed around the cigar in his mouth and offered a high five to his younger companion.

   “What the blue blazes is wrong with you?” Haddock shook as he clambered to his feet. “I’ll knock your head in you devil!”

   “’Blue blazes!’” Abdullah chuckled and wiped away a tear.

   “Calm yourself, Seniór.” The bigger man held out one hand to halt the Captain and lit his cigar with the other. “Is just harmless prank.”

   “Harmless? I almost had a heart attack!” Given the scoundrels’ matching black and gold-trimmed uniforms, these two must be copilots.  Haddock couldn’t believe they were in charge of something as valuable as a Jaeger.

   “You are right.” Abdullah shook his head in sudden remorse. “I shouldn’t have played that prank...but I did not know you were...so...OLD!”

   A stream of giggles set the boy’s short, black curls bouncing and ruined any illusion of sincerity.

    “Old? Old! You don’t look too old for a proper spanking!” Haddock rolled up his sleeves in barely contained fury. The kid couldn’t be more than fifteen. Certainly old enough to know better. Haddock might really spank him. Or just beat him senseless. He would decide when he got his hands on the little monster.

   “Captain, don’t!” Tintin warned.

   “Give me one good reason.”

   Abdullah snapped his fingers with unveiled glee. Four men in Arabic robes stepped from the shadows of the doorway and trained their guns on Haddock. The large pilot next to Abdullah also drew a knife from behind his back, though he took his sweet time doing it.

  Tintin grabbed one of the Captain’s wrists even though balled fists were already lowering in shock. Slowly, as if staring down a wild animal, Tintin and Haddock leaned toward each other while keeping an eye on the dark, young pilot.

   “This is Abdullah,” Tintin explained tersely. “His father is the Emir Ben Kalish Ezab.”

   “The Emir…”

   “Which makes me a prince.” Abdullah jutted a thumb at himself in the most obnoxious way possible.

   “A prince.” Haddock said it as though he was reporting the time. “Of course you are.”

  “And that, “Tintin nodded to the big pilot with the knife, “is General Alcazar.”

   General Alcazar smiled around his cigar but didn’t bother to lower his weapon.

   Tintin squeezed Haddock’s wrist and shot him a pointed look. Haddock hissed but got the message.

   “I am Archibald Haddock…and…I’m very sorry that I didn’t know you’re a prince…and a general.”

    Tintin noticed that it wasn’t exactly an apology but it seemed good enough for the young prince.

   Abdullah shrugged. “I won’t have you beheaded this time, Blistering Barnacles. It’s your first day and you made me laugh. But tomorrow! Tomorrow, I will not be lenient.” The prince headed up the catwalk stairs to join the other onlookers, most of whom gave him a wide berth.

   Haddock leaned in and whispered to the young reporter who was still holding his wrist. “You want to start telling me people are powerful BEFORE I threaten them?”

   Tintin frowned. “If you’d stop threatening people altogether-“

   “Ay, Caramba! You believe that kid?” General Alcazar threw an arm across Tintin’s shoulders which also allowed him to clap a hand on Haddock’s back in an awkward but, apparently, good-natured embrace. “’Tomorrow, I will not be lenient,’ he says. Such jokes!”

   This statement was followed by an uproarious laugh and puff of cigar smoke. Haddock stared at the man. Could he possibly be just as deranged as Abdullah?

   “Tintin, mi amigo!” Alcazar focused his one shoulder hug on Tintin and threw in an extra squeeze that Haddock couldn’t help but notice. The man even went so far as to clasp Tintin’s hand and turn the reporter away from Haddock. “Cuanto tiempo, Tintin! Cómo estas?”

   The globetrotting reporter slipped right into the conversation. “Bien, gracias. ¿Cómo estás, General? ¿Cómo va la revolucíon?”

   “¿El revolución? ¡El mundo está  guerra, Señor Tintín!”

   Tintin laughed lightly. “Sí,estás correcto. Discupleme .”

   “¡De nada!” Alacazar waved the conversation off and released Tintin. “We should visit when you’re not...busy.”

   Haddock bristled when Alcazar nodded in his direction. Why now with the English?

   “You must visit, Tintin. You owe me a chess match. Remember, Colonel?” Alcazar laughed at what must have been an inside joke.

   “Of course, General.” Tintin nodded courteously. “Maybe later.”

   The big man turned to Haddock and elbowed him insistently in the arm as if they’d been friends for ages. “I’ll be watching, Haddock. Give us a good show, no?”

   “Er…right,” the Captain shrugged away from Alcazar’s elbow. With a half wave to Tintin, Alcazar ascended the nearby stairs and joined Abdullah in the choicest viewing area of the catwalk.

   “What was that?” Haddock’s voice came out gruffer than intended.

   “What was what?”

   “Nevermind. At least I know I can’t pick a copilot worse than one of those two.”

   Since he was halfway into the training room already, Haddock figured there wasn’t much point in turning back now. Besides, if experience in the Jaeger training program and this oversized wrestling mat were any indication, Haddock knew he would soon have the opportunity to hit someone. That might improve his mood.

   “So,” Haddock clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, “how are we doing this?”

   “Do you want to change your clothes first? There’s a room just-”

   Haddock scoffed and shed his blue sweater and captain’s hat. Tintin caught them as they flew over Haddock’s shoulder.

   “Let’s get on with it. I’m not getting any younger!” He made sure to shout the last bit to a snickering Abdullah overhead.

   Tintin seemed to suppress a sigh and nodded to a balding man in a striped vest. “Fine. Nestor officiates.”

   Haddock rolled his shoulders and tried not to watch the young reporter take a place next to Abdullah and Alacazar. Fine friends those two! What did a good lad like Tintin have to do with those jokesters anyway?

Nestor took a place as close to the edge of the mat as could be considered safe and gestured for the first applicant, his cultured voice outlined the process. “This shall be no-holds-barred combat. One point is received each time your opponent’s back touches the mat. The first combatant awarded three points wins the match.”

   Haddock’s thoughts were elsewhere and he didn’t even hear his opponent’s name, though it sounded vaguely Italian and much too long.

   “You may begin!”

   If Captain Haddock hadn’t been staring at a particular redhead, he might have seen the fist coming for his face. As it happened, the Italian man’s gloved knuckles connected with Haddock’s cheek and knocked him flat on his back.

   Nestor didn’t miss a beat. “The first point goes to Arturo Benedetto Giovanni Giuseppe Pietro...“

   The Captain shook his head to clear it. That man was quick! Archibald hazarded a glance up. Tintin’s arms were crossed casually against the safety rail. A furrow formed between reddish brows. Haddock swore under his breath and stood just as Nestor finished reciting the last of the Italian man’s multiple names.

   “Second round, begin,” Nestor drawled.

   This time Archibald was taking no chances. He focused on the hawk-nosed man in front of him. The Italian smiled.

   “Italian boxers are the fastest in the world,” the man gloated.

   Captain Haddock’s face screwed into a half sneer. “Fast? You should see sailors move when they’re on shore leave.”

   Haddock managed to duck under the first swing of a fist. Victory was short when another blow caught him in the side. There was a sickening lurch as a kick found the back of Haddock’s knee. The limb collapsed and dumped Haddock on his rear. The Captain rolled just enough to feel his lower back connect with the matt.

   “Second point goes to…” Nestor took a long breath in preparation for the grossly long name and then changed his mind, “…the gentleman from Italy.”

   “What? I barely touched it!” Haddock protested. “Who’s side are you on?”

   “No one’s side, Sir.” Nester quipped dryly. “I’m a referee.”

   “Hey, Blistering Barnacles! You suck!”

    Haddock glared daggers at Abdullah and Alcazar as they high fived again. At Alcazar’s side, Tintin silently shook his head and smoothed his quiff. Archibald thumped his fist against the mat and scrambled to his feet. This was just embarrassing.

   “Let’s go, Nestor! Next round.”

   Nestor raised a single brow at being rushed. “Round three.”

   Haddock was already moving and missed the trace amounts of sarcasm in the referee’s voice. The Italian adversary twisted away but could not avoid the Captain already in mid-tackle. Both men hit the ground, the important part being that the Italian was on the bottom.

   “One point to Archibald Haddock.”

   Haddock stood and cracked his knuckles. “Quick enough for you?”

   The Italian man groaned from his place on the mat. As Haddock returned to his starting point, two medics decided the Italian candidate ought not continue and whisked him away on a stretcher.

   Nestor cleared his throat to silence the mumbling from the catwalks. “The gentleman is unable to continue. The round goes to Archibald Haddock.”

   Haddock caught Tintin’s eye and beamed. And yet, the redhead’s brow furrowed even deeper. What was the matter? He was winning now. What could Tintin have to be disappointed by?

  The next challenger approached but haddock waved the portly Spanish man away.

   “What’s the matter, lad?”

   Tintin blinked and straighten up. He looked to Abdullah.

   “No. You, Tintin,” the Captain called. “What’s wrong?”

   The reporter scanned the watching crowd and shook his head subtly.

   “Come on! Say what you have to say!”

   Tintin winced but complied. “I’m sorry, Captain, but you’re a bit sloppy.”

   “Sloppy…” Haddock’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “…sloppy?”

   “Si,” Alcazar contributed gravely.

   “It seems like you’re barely paying attention to the match,” Tintin sighed.

   “Yeah! Eyes on the prize, Barnacles!”

   “’Eyes on the prize,’” The Captain muttered. Haddock shook his head, hands on his hips. That was it. Abdullah was exactly right.  A terrifyingly vague plan formed in the Captain’s head. “Fine then! Why don’t you come down here and show me how it’s done, Tintin?”

   “Oooooh!” Abdullah exhaled excitedly along with half the assembled onlookers.

   Tintin shot Abdullah a classic you’re-so-not-helping look and shook his head. “Captain, I don’t think-“

   “What’s the matter, amigo? It should be funny.” Alcazar laughed slowly as he pictured it in his head.

   “Alcazar!” This time General Alcazar got the open-mouthed-what-the-Hell look.

   Feeling left out, Snowy barked and left it to Tintin to interpret as he wished.

   “I forgot!” Haddock beamed in his practically assured victory. “He’s just a paperboy.”

   Tintin’s eyes flashed so dangerously that Haddock could see the change from the floor.

   Nestor held up a hand to draw the room to order. He turned to Tintin. “Sir, it would seem the Captain has challenged you. Do you accept?”

   The whole room turned to Tintin for his answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you hanging! I started typing and by the time I thought to look, this chapter had become twelve pages long! It was a headache to spell/grammar check so I had to cut it up.  
> Also, I expect people to hate/love the Alcazar/Abdullah team. Of course, Abdullah's age has been bumped up a bit because I HAD to have that maniac in a Jaeger. My apologies for any inaccuracies in Alcazar's Spanish. Blame Google translate/my roommate. Look for the continuation very soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manly, disheveled fights ahead. *growls*  
> *************************************************************

 

   Nestor’s brow rose slowly. “Sir? Will you accept Haddock’s challenge?”

   Dozens of spectators stared anxiously at the redheaded reporter. After a painfully silent moment, Tintin loosened his tie and slid it over his head. He left his trench coat and cardigan draped neatly over the catwalk’s railing, his watch tucked into the pocket for safe keeping. Shoes were discarded at the edge of the mat. Left in a yellow polo and brown slacks, Tintin squared off against Captain Haddock.

   “Are you satisfied, Captain?”

   Haddock was so pleased with himself that his grin went a little crooked.

   Nestor, ever nonplussed, cleared his throat. “The rules stand. One point is awarded each time your opponent’s back touches the mat and the first gentleman to three points is the winner. If combatants are ready, you may begin round one.”

   Haddock sank into a boxing stance, fists up and ready. Of course he had no desire to hurt the redhead but Haddock’s plan was already in motion. He’d teach Tintin something about compatibility.

   “Pay attention this time, Captain.” Tintin mirrored the Captain’s stance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

   Haddock laughed in spite of himself. There must have been an fifty pound difference between himself and the boyish reporter. Not to mention that Haddock had been somewhat of a brawler his whole life. From the schoolyard to port town bars Haddock had been in plenty of scrapes. Years in a Jaeger had only refined natural skills. The Captain could hold his own against many man or monster. And there wouldn’t be any sucker punches this time. Haddock was absolutely focused on his opponent.

   Tintin wasn’t someone who enjoyed fighting but he certainly had his share of dangerous encounters. If Haddock knew half of the gunfights, knifefights, fistfights and foot chases Tintin had been in, the sea Captain might have called this whole thing off. Unfortunately, the Captain hadn’t read many newspapers in the last decade.

   Haddock grinned, so proud he’d gotten Tintin this far. “Don’t think I’ll go down easily, lad.”

   “You were easy enough to knock down in the streets of San Francisco,” Tintin replied humorlessly.

   The Captain huffed. “I was drunk. And that was hours ago.”

   Nestor cleared his throat and tried very hard to look uninterested by the impending match. "Round one may begin."

   A quick jab to Tintin’s right was just to test the waters. Tintin blocked easily and Haddock was reasonably satisfied. The better Tintin’s reaction time, the less likely the young man was to get injured. Just to be sure, Haddock threw a faster cross jab to Tintin’s left side. Instead of taking or deflecting the blow, Tintin took a step to the side, grabbed the Captain’s extended arm and twisted it behind the sailor’s back in a fluid movement.

   The hold trapped Haddock’s left arm between their bodies. Tintin’s left hand squeezed the Captain’s twisted shoulder in a warning not to move unless he wanted something to possibly slip out of socket. Tintin was too close to see it but he could imagine the Captain’s face. “Don’t worry about pulling your punches, Captain. I don't break easily.”

  Haddock clenched his jaw as Tintin’s breath tickled his ear.

   Tintin relaxed his hold and took a step back. Seizing the opportunity, Haddock turned and swooped down to drive his shoulder into Tintin’s ribs and grab the closest leg. Small hands clawed at the back of Haddock’s shirt for purchase but Haddock was already stepping to the side and pushing up the captive leg. Tintin’s was stretched too far. With nothing to balance on, Tintin fell. Archibald released the boy and watched gravity take its course. Tintin’s back hit the mat with a thud that seemed to echo in the hushed training room.

   The spectators were silent but visibly intrigued. Even Abdullah gawked quietly. Tintin propped himself up on his elbows to stare at the Captain with wide eyes. It had only taken a few seconds for the sailor to surprise him.

   “No-holds-barred remember?” The Captain offered a grin that was nothing short of smug.

   Tintin nodded mutely and set his mouth in a determined line. He wouldn’t be pulling any more punches either.

   “First point to Captain Haddock.”

   Without waiting for Nestor to commence the second round, Tintin and Haddock squared off again. On the first punch, Tintin caught Haddock’s sleeve and dumped the man to the floor with a single, outside foot sweep.

   “One point to Mr. Tintin.”

   “Ow,” Haddock muttered as he rubbed his hip. He’d never met a newsboy that knew judo throws. “Reporter my ass!”

   Tintin shrugged. “I suppose I’m really more of an investigative journalist.”

    “Round three, Sirs.”

   They stared each other down, much more wary after having each been floored. Both blocked and attacked with their hands while waiting for a good chance to throw or grapple. With a quick left hook, Haddock managed a glancing blow off Tintin’s shoulder. That’s when the redhead made his move.

   Fisting Haddock’s sleeve in one hand, collar in the other, Tintin turned outward. He pulled down in a move that would have sent Haddock flying over the boy’s shoulder but the angle was poor and Tintin’s leg didn’t extend far enough to trip the Captain as planned. They stumbled in a rough tangle of legs but remained more or less standing.

   Another sweep of Tintin’s foot brought the situation back in the redhead’s favor and dumped Haddock backward.

   Haddock knew he was a goner. He grabbed Tintin’s collar in a last ditch effort to stay upright. The Captain’s weight spun Tintin and pulled them both to the floor.

   “Oof!” The air was forced from Haddock as Tintin landed half sprawled across his stomach. He’d taken the redhead down with him. That was a sort of victory. Haddock still gripped one fistful of Tintin’s collar. His other hand sought Tintin’s side to roll the young man off.

   Tintin jerked in surprise when a rough palm gripped the bared skin of his waist. He pushed back onto his knees, careful to avoid the leg trapped between his own, and rose in one hurried motion.

   “Second point to Mr. Tintin.”

   Tintin smoothed wispy hairs off his forehead and back into his quiff. Adrenaline wreaked havoc on his heartbeat. In fact, he had a hard time believing the manic beat in his temples was his own pulse. He felt the heat in his cheeks and knew the rest of his face would be flushed as well. Tintin shook out his limbs and exhaled before facing the Captain again. “That’s two for me.”

   “You haven’t won yet,” Haddock reminded him. There was a pink dusting along the redheads’ high cheeks. If Tintin was exerting himself that much, Haddock reasoned there was still a good chance for victory.

   “He’s all yours, Tintin!” General Alcazar laughed from the catwalk. “One more point, mi amigo!”

   “Come on, Blistering Barnacles! I have money riding on you.” Abdullah motioned to Alcazar who was collecting slips of paper as various crewmen passed them in. Haddock wasn’t sure Abdullah was someone he wanted in his corner. It was sweet of the little prince to bet on him though. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

   “Fourth round.”

   Haddock and Tintin moved in opposites so that no matter where they travelled on the mat, there was always a fixed distance between them. Finally, Tintin moved in for a strike. Haddock ducked and grabbed for the reporter’s open leg but Tintin saw it coming and drew back too quickly.

   Tintin tucked his head and threw his shoulder into the Captain’s chest hoping to catch him before he recovered and roll the man onto his back. Haddock was a big man and had the advantage of downward momentum, so despite Tintin’s strength, the Captain remained standing. Haddock’s hands gripped the boy’s shoulders. Tintin was stuck between the floor and the Captain’s sturdy frame like a stick wedged between two boulders. This close the Captain was at an advantage. 

   Determined to reverse the situation, Tintin brought one socked foot forward to snake between the Captain’s legs. He hooked the Captain’s heel and applied pressure. Tintin managed to make Haddock stumble against him but there wasn’t enough force to make the man go down.

   Archibald pulled Tintin tighter against his chest with one arm and hooked the other under the redhead’s last supporting knee. Tintin grunted against the Captain’s neck. He knew what came next and had no way to stop it in time. One tug brought the human knot to the floor.

   Haddock took most of the impact to the arm under Tintin’s back but made no complaint save a small grimace. The Captain half knelt between Tintin’s splayed legs, his large hand still cupped the back of Tintin’s raised calf.

   “Second point to Haddock.”

   Abdullah crowed overhead.

   “You alright, lad?” The Captain was winded by all this grappling and tumbling and the question came out a little raspy. The redhead seemed equally winded but managed a nod between short, silent breaths. Haddock’s eyes were drawn to Tintin’s adam’s apple as it bobbed with each gulp of air. One of Tintin’s buttons had been lost exposing an extra inch of collar bone. Haddock released Tintin’s calf and gritted his teeth.

   The appropriate time to move had come and gone. The Captain shifted to relieve the weight on his knee. Tintin’s thighs flinched on either side. At first, Haddock thought he’d somehow hurt the smaller man. Tintin’s expression seemed a bit surprised, though certainly not pained. At least not in the traditional sense. Archibald forgot to breathe until pale fists uncurled from his biceps.

   It took no small effort to slide away from the other man and climb to his feet. Haddock managed it with just a handful of his wits to spare. Tintin took a little longer. By the time the younger man made it to his feet, Haddock had already given his own body a very thorough cursing.

   This was a mistake. This whole harebrained idea was a mistake. Haddock had wanted to show the boy they could work well together, think and fight on the same level. He didn’t mean for that level to seem…so horizontal.  If Haddock had a bottle of whiskey nearby, he would have drained the whole damn thing. Haddock wiped some errant sweat from his temple and accidently locked eyes with Tintin.

   Oh, now there was a mistake! Tintin’s eyes were lit up, lips barely parted, skin flushed from forehead to collar bone, even his quiff was perfectly tousled! It sent a jolt right through Haddock. He doubled over, hands on his knees. To anyone watching, the Captain was catching his breath. Really he was trying to swallow the panic in his throat.

   “Dios mio! Don’t let him win, Tintin!” Alcazar and Snowy were pressed against the rails anxiously.

   Tintin straightened his back and tugged his untucked polo back into place.

   “That’s two, Captain,” Tintin’s voice was lower than usual. “I’m not sure you’ve got another one in you. Maybe you should forfeit.”

   “Don’t taunt me boy!” Haddock meant it. The man was already teetering on the edge of an action that could ruin everything.

   In a far corner of the training room, a speaker crackled to herald a PA announcement.

   “Blue Dragon now docking. Blue Dragon now docking.”

   Tintin stared at the speaker as if it had spit out a unicorn instead of an announcement.

   “Alcazar!” Tintin held his hands up to the general. Alcazar frowned but Abdullah caught on quickly. The Emir's son tossed Tintin’s jacket over the rail with a wicked grin. Tintin caught it, managed a hurried ‘thanks’, and made a move for his shoes beside the mat.

   “Hey!" Haddock straightened. “Where are you going? We’re not done.”

   Tintin was already out the door, shoes not even tied.

   “Well, “Abdullah drawled, “It looks like BB is the winner. Pay up, Alcazar.”

   Alcazar jerked the cigar from his mouth and used it to gesture wildly. “Winner? There is no winner! Can you not see the match is on hold? Seniór Tintin will be back!”

   “Tintin!” Haddock’s exclamation startled the quarreling Jaeger pilots. Haddock pointed to the line of untested applicants against the far wall. “All of you. Go home.”

   Haddock snatched up his discarded clothes and stormed toward the door.

   “See! There goes Haddock too! Match is on hold.” Alcazar crammed his cigar back in his mouth.

   “Tintin forfeited first!”

   “Caramba!”

   The catwalk exploded with the angry voices of dozens of crewmen clamoring to know how the match had ended so they could collect their winnings. In the midst of it all, Nestor quietly rubbed at the pounding behind his brow.


	7. Chapter 7

   Tintin smoothed his quiff and tapped the elevator button for the fourth or fifth time. What was taking it so long? He punched the button once more, waited patiently for three seconds, then bolted for the nearest stairwell.

   As he pushed through the door, another announcement echoed off the metal walls. “Blue Dragon is docked and secure. Personnel stand by for pilots' disengage.”

   Tintin took the stairs two at a time on his way up. The Blue Dragon was a Jaeger Tintin had only ever seen in propaganda reels. Of course, he’d read all about it. Not just news articles and online blurbs, Tintin knew all about the Blue Dragon from emails and texts sent personally by one of the Jaeger’s pilots.

   Tintin burst from the stairwell accompanied by the clang of the metal door meeting the wall. He found himself on a wide landing that stretched all around the Jaeger bay. This was the floor were all pilots accessed their cockpits. Exactly where Tintin needed to be.

   How long had it been? Five years? Six? Long enough that Tintin barely noticed when he ran in front of a moving forklift and nearly caused an accident. He’d come out close enough to the Blue Dragon that the Jaeger’s head was a blue-green wall in his vision. Crewmen had just finished extending a bridge that connected the Jaeger to the safety of the extra-wide landing. That meant Tintin hadn’t missed him yet. At the back of the Blue Dragon’s head, large panels shifted and parted like a sliding puzzle to reveal the Jaeger’s pilot just as Tintin reached the bridge.

   Even under a helmet and full suit of blue armor, Tintin knew the pilot. “Chang!”

   The pilot turned and Tintin’s run petered to an awkward stop. The face behind the visor was Chinese, but it wasn’t Chang Chong-Chen.

   “Oh…it’s you,” Tintin stuttered lamely.

   The Chinese man’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under his helmet. He stared Tintin down half disappointed and half amused. The redhead flushed at his own rudeness. “I mean… Hello, Didi.”

   “Hello again, Tintin,” Didi replied pointedly.

   “Tintin?” It came, not from Didi, but behind the man. The voice was muffled by a helmet, but Tintin knew its owner. This time for sure! When the other half Blue Dragon’s team set foot on the bridge, the helmet couldn’t hide the surprise on the young pilot’s face or the delight. “Tintin!”

   “Chang!” It was no less enthusiastic the second time.

   Chang slipped past Didi at a run and just managed to wrestle off his helmet before catching Tintin in a massive hug. 

   “Are you really here?” Chang questioned Tintin’s shoulder.

   “Are _you_?” Tintin countered as he pulled Chang away to look at him.

   Silky black bangs swayed across Chang’s brow and his eyes disappeared as he laughed. “I am here. And with you! This is wonderful! But what has happened to you? You look…”

   Tintin took stock of himself. Tie hung around his neck haphazardly, cardigan bunched up at the sleeves, shirt still untucked, shoelaces never tied, trench coat lying on the bridge where he’d discarded it in favor of hugging Chang; he did look a sight. Tintin smoothed his hair and shrugged. “It’s been quite a day.”

   “I know your days, Tintin. Should we start running?”

   Tintin laughed at Chang’s gentle smile. “No. Not that kind of day. Though I suppose it started out something like that.”

   A strong “ahem” interrupted their reunion. The crew in charge of raising and lowering the bridge stared pointedly. Tintin collected his coat and sheepishly led the way off the bridge.

   Safely out of the crewmen’s way, Tintin turned to a pressing question. “What _are_ you doing here, Chang? Last time we talked you were patrolling China’s coast.”

   “Ah, it has been a long time. My mission is…different.” Chang and Didi shared a somber look. Tintin caught the exchange with keen eyes. Though a second later, when Chang turned back to Tintin, he was all smiles again. “But wait, I am a Jaeger pilot and this is a Shatterdome. _You_ are the one out of place. A new article maybe? Oh! Unless you found _him_. Did you? Did you find Archibald Haddock?”

   Tintin measured his smile carefully. After all, Chang’s enthusiasm was for Tintin’s sake. Finding the Captain and restoring his Jaeger pilot status had been Tintin’s goal for the better part of a year. Tintin shared his dream with Chang through countless electronic communiques and Chang had been marvelously supportive of the wild hunt. To see Tintin successful would be as satisfying for Chang as finding Haddock was for Tintin. But the whole event was turning out to be bittersweet. Tintin decided to settle for the simplest truth. “Yes, I found him.”

   “And it seems he has, in turn, found you.”

   Tintin was confused until Snowy’s barking caused him to turn from Chang. The white terrier ran full tilt across the concrete floor followed by a sweaty, red-faced Captain cursing up a storm. Snowy leapt and danced in dizzying circles around Chang’s ankles.

   “It is good to see you as well, Snowy.” Chang stooped to pet the excited little dog.

   Snowy’s nails clicked against Chang’s armor as he tried to sniff at the pilot’s face.

    _“What a surprise!”_ Snowy thought. _“It’s the boy from China. Tintin, did you know Chang is here?”_

   “Thundering typhoons, Tintin!” The Captain huffed as he joined the group. “We were in the middle of something. What’s so important that you couldn’t wait for me?”

   Chang subtly raised a brow at the Captain’s sweat-soaked undershirt and tousled hair. He looked over Tintin with his crooked tie and unlaced shoes. Chang chose to politely ignore any speculations he might have made.

   “I’m sorry, Captain. I quite forgot, I was so eager to get up here.” Tintin’s apology was as sincere and real as his embarrassment. “Captain, this is Chang Chong-Chen. He’s a very good friend of mine.”

   Chang smiled and offered a hand to the Captain. Haddock shook it. Chang was a good-looking young man and his hand was deceptively strong for its size. Haddock found these things perturbing for reasons he would hate to admit.

   “Captain Archibald Haddock. Pleasure meeting you, Chang.” Haddock hoped it didn’t sound like a lie.

   “The same, Captain Haddock.”

   Well-mannered too. Damn.

   “This is Didi. He is my copilot and my brother.”

   Haddock vainly hoped for a different qualifier but shook the tall Chinese man’s hand anyway. “Copilot huh? By the way Tintin shot up here, I assume you two pilot the Blue Dragon.”

   “Yes. We call her Qing Long in China. And you are affiliated with the Karrie Boudjan, yes?”

   “Er, well it’s complicated. Legally, no. But years ago…It’s a whole rotten barrel of fish.”

   “I see.” Chang tried to process the information but didn’t seem to get far.

   Not that Haddock could blame him. The whole thing was cockeyed backwards.

   “Well, I am glad you could join us, Captain.” Chang looked from the Captain to Tintin with a tinge of sadness. “It is indeed a pleasure to see you here. I know Tintin has sought you for a long time.  And that is why it breaks my heart to arrest you.”

   “Arrest me?”

   “Arrest him? Chang, are you serious?”

   “I’m sorry, Tintin. But by order of the Chinese Sons of the Dragon, we’re here to arrest Archibald Haddock for drug trafficking.”

   “Drug trafficking? Drug trafficking!”

   Tintin placed a calming hand on the Captain’s chest the same moment Didi took a step forward as if to protect Chang.

   “What kind of nonsense is this?” The captain fought against Tintin’s hand as he worked himself into a near frenzy. “You can’t drop out of nowhere and accuse a man of something like that! It’s preposterous! Complete lunacy! Do you know what kind of day I've had? I’m going to…I’m going to…!”

   Haddock abruptly lost steam and doubled over at the waist. “Tintin, I’m going to be sick.”

   “Have a seat, Captain.” Tintin sighed as he guided the Captain to the floor. “Head between your knees.”

   All six members of the bridge crew chose this moment to walk through the scene. Tintin was acutely aware of each set of questioning eyes as they travelled from the two Chinese pilots to the mumbling Captain on the floor.

   “Chang, could we continue this somewhere more private?”

   “If you wish.”

   “Come on, Captain. We’ll discuss this in my room.”

***********************************************

   It had been a painfully awkward trip from the Jaeger docking platforms down to the barracks. Didi watched Chang, Chang watched the Captain, the Captain watched Tintin, Tintin watched them all, and Snowy stood in the very middle of the wary circle feigning seriousness so as not to break the mood. And so they continued that way to a corridor marked as Syldavian barracks and then to Tintin’s door, which looked much like any other door in this hall with its dull, steel plating. The redhead ushered his Chinese guests and the Captain ahead of him.

   Haddock was momentarily distracted by the complete lack of character in Tintin’s room. Sure, there were a few books here and there, a laptop on the desk, clothes peeking out of a small trunk, one of the bunk beds had slightly rumpled sheets; otherwise, the place was completely boring box of steel plates. Tintin gestured for Chang and Didi to take the bottom bunk bed since it was the largest flat surface. He offered Haddock the single desk chair and parked himself on an empty corner of the desk itself.

   The Captain met Chang’s eyes and scowled. “Some friends you got here, Tintin,” he muttered.

   “Captain,” Tintin allowed Snowy to jump into his lap. “Chang and Didi saved my life in China.”

   “You saved us as well, Tintin. Many times. We will always be grateful to-“

   Haddock decided he’d rather get on with the inquiry than hear how chummy everyone could be. He nodded to Chang and Didi and interjected. “Could you two stop looking at me like I’m guilty?”

   “Are you?” Tintin quipped.

   The Captain sputtered in the face of such a question from Tintin. “My work has always been honest!”

   “Yes, it seems to be the after-hours activities where you find trouble.”

   Chang drummed softly against the helmet in his lap. “I hate to interrupt, but may we begin formal questioning?”

   “Oh. Yeah, get on with it.” Haddock had a hard time tearing his eyes away from Tintin’s inscrutable face.

   “Archibald Haddock, what do you know about Blue K?”

   That certainly got the Captain’s attention. “Blue K?”

   Tintin frowned but never stopped scratching behind Snowy’s ears. “I’ve never heard of it.”

   _“Imagine that,”_ Snowy thought drowsily, _“Something Tintin doesn’t know all about.”_

   Haddock scowled as he stared Chang down. “I’ve heard of it. It’s a hallucinogenic drug. Manufactured from the blood of dead Kaiju. We used to call it Kaijuice.”

   Tintin forgot this was Chang’s investigation. “You admit you know the drug then?” he frowned.

   That was a particularly damning question. Haddock shifted in his chair to stare at Tintin. “Of course I know it! From my pilot days. Any time a Jaeger took down a Kaiju, pilots and politicians all wanted to pat each other’s backs at a bloated victory party. There was always a bottle of Kaijuice floating around.”

   “And did you-“

   “No, Tintin! I never used it. And I've certainly got nothing to do with it now.” Somehow convincing Tintin was more important than convincing the two men who wanted to arrest him. “I’ve seen Kaijuice ruin too many people. It eats away their brains, at least the ones who had brains to begin with.”

   Chang took this opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “You are correct, Haddock. Blue K is very deadly and it is spreading quickly. When the Chinese Sons of the Dragon first heard reports, there were only a few deaths. Now there are thousands. Blue K has been reported in every country in the world. We are here to end the deaths and the drug wars. We have stopped many dealers, many smugglers but the source is still unknown. The Brotherhood protects China. And to keep the drug out of China, we must find its source and stop it.”

    “We had a man on the inside.” The whole room was startled to hear Didi’s careful English. “Our man was caught. They injected him with so much Blue K, it destroyed his veins, his muscles. Before he died, all he could say was ‘Karrie Boudjan’ and your name, Captain Archibald Haddock.”

   Tintin didn’t miss a beat. “But how could the Captain smuggle drugs using the Karrie Boudjan? This afternoon was the first time he’s seen her in five years. He doesn’t even own the copyright anymore.”

   Haddock wanted to sarcastically thank Tintin for bringing up the copyright issue again. Honestly, Haddock was just glad to see Tintin was throwing tough questions against both sides of this inquiry.

   “We do not know how,” Chang admitted. “The ‘Karrie Boudjan’ might have been to help us in simply finding the correct Archibald Haddock. But if you are smuggling Blue K, Captain, we will find out. Until we can prove your innocence or guilt, we must insist that you stay in this Shatterdome.”

   “What about my ship?” The captain rubbed his chin as he thought out loud. “I’ve got a cargo tanker at port in San Francisco.”

   “We will want to search that,” Chang noted.

   “Help yourself!” Haddock threw his hands up in irritated surrender.

   “Thank you for being cooperative.”

   What irritated the Captain most was that Chang didn’t mean it sarcastically.

   “If you continue to deny any involvement with Blue K-" 

"I do," Haddock interjected.

"Then I suppose there is nothing more to be done here.” Chang stood and tucked his helmet under his arm. Didi followed suit. “Archibald Haddock, you must remain confined in the Red Sea Shatterdome until a further decision is made. And though it is not fair, I am sure Tintin will not object to keeping an eye on you.”

   Tintin rested his chin on his fist, obviously deep in thought, but nodded silently.

   Chang hesitated at the door. “Captain, I hope that the Brotherhood’s suspicions are not true. It would be a shame to see you in prison after all Tintin’s efforts.”

   Haddock stared at the redhead who was still deep in thought. Yes, it would be a shame.

   Tintin jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers in an explosive epiphany. Snowy yelped in surprise at being dumped onto the floor. Haddock almost fell out of his chair. Didi had again moved to protect Chang.

   “Chang! What about Haddock’s old partner?”

   The youngest pilot nodded. “Mr. Allan Thompson. We are looking into him as well.”

   Haddock slammed a meaty fist against Tintin’s desk, just barely missing the boy’s laptop. “This sounds like a mess Allan would get himself into. That scheming, slimy sea gherkin!”

   Chang adjusted the helmet in his grip. “Do you want to make a statement against Allan Thompson?”

   The Captain didn’t even need a moment to consider. “I think I just made a statement. Absolutely! If this drug smuggling has anything to do with the Karrie Boudjan, then I’m sure you’ll find Allan responsible. I hope you do catch him in it. It’d serve that devil right!”

   “All right.” Chang nodded. “We will keep that in mind. For now, we will search the Karrie Boudjan as well as your ship in San Francisco. Thank you for your time.”

   The Captain turned as he struck up a mumbling dialogue with himself. It seemed to consist mostly of outlining Allan’s disreputable behavior with a spattering of self-loathing for variety. Content the Captain had nothing of greater value to offer, Chang and Didi let themselves out into the hall. Tintin followed and sealed the Captain in the room behind him. The journalist was not yet satisfied.

   “Chang, the Captain has nothing to do with Blue K.”

   The young Asian sighed and shook his head. “How do you know that, Tintin?”

   “I just know.”

   Chang’s smile was soft but wry. “Tintin, has anyone ever told you that you chose your loyalties quickly?”

   “It’s not loyalty-“

   “It’s fine, Tintin!” Chang laughed. He wasn’t insulting the journalist. “You choose character well. And I trust you. Haddock says he is innocent. You say he is innocent. I want to believe so. But we investigate anyway. ‘The truth cannot be eclipsed by the things we wish to be true.’”

   Tintin thought on that and nodded. “I understand. It’s the same when I write my articles.”

   “I know. That is where I got the saying.”

   “Oh! Did I write that?” Tintin laughed.

   “Yes,” Didi butted in, “In your article about the broken idol in South America. It is my favorite. After the one in China.”

   “Oh! Well...” Tintin shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to control the blush burning in his cheeks.

   “Tintin,” Chang held out a slim hand and Tintin shook it readily. “It was good to see you again. Didi and I have more work to attend to tonight. You will see us off in the morning, yes?”

   “Absolutely. Goodnight, Chang. Goodnight, Didi.”

  Tintin watched the two until they disappeared around a corner. Was his loyalty really given so quickly? It bothered him to think so. He shook it off and decided to call it a night. Tintin reentered his room to find Captain Haddock waiting quietly at the desk. It was almost peculiar to see the Captain not flailing about or screaming.

   “Are you alright, Captain?”

   Haddock gave a start and then cleared his throat. “Didn’t hear you come back in. Are they gone?”

   “Yes.”

   “I’m just glad all that drug nonsense is over with.”

   “Well, you are still under a sort of house arrest.” Tintin pointed out.

   “I wasn’t going anywhere to begin with.” Haddock stood and raked his fingers through his beard for a moment before finding the right mental footing and opening his mouth again. “Now, Lad, you left me rather quickly in that training room.”

   Tintin winced slightly in reminder of his thoughtless dash to meet Chang.

   “As I recall,” Haddock continued, “we were tied at two points each. We could dig up that referee Nestor and finish.”

   Haddock swallowed around a sudden dryness in his throat. Tintin’s posture shifted ever so slightly.

   “Or…you could save us both the sweat and agree to be my copilot.”

   Tintin's stared blankly for a moment. “Your copilot?”

   “Assuming this smuggling nonsense clears up, I'll still need someone to help me pilot the Karrier," Haddock winced and corrected himself, "er, Castafiore Emerald. I know you’ve never piloted before, but you and I-“

   “-are compatible. I agree, Captain. We are compatible.”

   Haddock swallowed uneasily. Tintin’s soft tone was distracting but there could be no room for misinterpretation. “So…”

   Tintin’s face lit with his smile. He extended his hand toward Haddock. “I accept your offer, Captain. You and I will pilot the Castafiore Emerald.”

   Captain Haddock stared at the reporter, er, journalist’s hand in nothing short of amazement. Finally, he laughed and shook the hand heartily. Tintin laughed too in, what was mostly, excitement. But the sound was colored by slight disbelief. Snowy huffed from his safe place on Tintin’s bed. It was too late for the terrier to appreciate the momentous occasion. Snowy yawned instead.

   Tintin smiled fondly at his fluffy companion. “It is getting to be rather late.”

   “Sure, sure. Could you lead the way to my room?”

   A small laugh escaped the redhead. Tintin smiled and gestured to the room in general. “Here we are.”

   “Oh, you mean we…” Haddock nodded at the bunk beds bolted to the wall. “…your…our room? I mean that’s fine! I’ve roomed with enough men in my life. That is-”

   “I took the last open room on the Syldavian side and I’m not very popular among the Bordurians. I understand if you-“

   “No, it’s great! I mean it will be good for us. As copilots. But if you’d rather-“

   “No, no. I don’t mind. We’ll get to know each other better.”

   “Alright then.”

   “Ok.”

   “I appreciate it.”

   “It’s no problem, Captain. Though I’ll be on bottom if you don’t mind.” Tintin heard it come out of his mouth and hurried to add on to the thought. “Snowy likes to curl up with me. It’s easier on...the…bottom bunk.”

   “I usually take the top anyway.” Haddock kicked himself for that one but had the sense not to backtrack.

   Tintin and the Captain exhaled at the same time.

   After just enough painful silence, Haddock tried to nonchalantly pull his sweaty undershirt away from his chest. “So, is there a shower?”

   Tintin quickly nodded and pointed to a sliding door in the back of the room. Haddock tossed his cap onto the top bunk and made a break for it.

   “Wait, Captain!”

   Haddock’s sweaty hand was on the bathroom door but he froze in place. His pulse was horribly loud in his ears. When he replied, his voice hardly seemed his own. “Yes, Tintin?”

   Tintin took his time and the Captain wondered if the boy had lost his nerve about something. Haddock closed his eyes against the sound of three approaching footsteps.

   “Captain, in San Francisco, you asked if Allan had sent me.” Tintin let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t know how I missed it earlier.”

   Haddock tightened his grip on the door frame. So that’s what had been hanging over them? A reporter’s burning desire for information? Why’d the boy have to be so smart?

   “Allan was your copilot. Captain, why would your old copilot have sent me to find you?”

   Haddock was afraid to meet the young man’s eyes. “It’s awfully late.”

   Tintin fought his very nature by not asking another question. “We'll talk later then.”

   It was a moment of mercy. Haddock knew better than to mistake it as the final word on the subject of Allan. He took the opening and retreated to the privacy of a shower.

   Snowy growled in his sleep and kicked out his little paws against Tintin’s pillow.

   “Oh, Snowy,” Tintin sighed, “Are you chasing things too?”

   The terrier whined once before settling down.

   Tintin smirked at Snowy’s pseudo reply before sitting next to his dog. Tintin smoothed his hands over his thighs and noticed a small piece of leaf that clung to his pants. It was so wilted and browned that it was almost invisible against the brown of his slacks. Tintin remembered tackling Haddock into a vegetable stand to save him from the raging Kaiju. It had knocked the wind from Tintin to land against the larger, older man.  A much older man, but still with a build that was solid over Tintin in the streets of San Francisco and warm under him in the training room. A man with hands large enough to hold nearly half of Tintin’s waist in a single, rough palm.

   Acutely ashamed of his quickened pulse, Tintin scraped the dried leaf off his knee with a bit more force than necessary. His cardigan wound up tossed in the vicinity of his traveling trunk. He yanked his cuffs back down to his wrists and straightened his tie until it butted against his throat.

   It only made the room seem more oppressive. The tie pressed uncomfortably against his pusle. Just as abruptly as he’d straightened himself out, Tintin yanked the tie from his neck and threw it toward his sweater in a fit of restlessness.

   By the time Haddock dared peek back into the room, Tintin was long gone.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch out, guys. These things are getting longer. -_-*


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for negligible nudity. You know, in case you're reading a weird crossover/AU fanfic with a slash warning and are somehow offended by unexpected nakedness.

   Archibald Haddock groaned and forced his eyes to open. The first thing he saw was his own reflection distorted by the convex lens of a Kaiju’s eye. It was a hauntingly beautiful mirror of gold and ochre streaks that filled all of the Captain’s vision, but the image it reflected was a pathetic likeness of the Captain. Or perhaps a perfect likeness of a pathetic Captain. He was dazed, smeared in a mix of blood and oil that seemed to have no source. His white armor was cracked and dirty, the whereabouts of his helmet completely unknown. The Captain reached out to his reflection, wondering if he could change the dismal image with a prod of his finger.

   The Kaiju reared from the Captain’s finger and snorted in a decidedly haughty manner. Haddock rubbed the gunk from his eye and blinked to make sure he was seeing correctly. The Kaiju clearly wore a tweed suit and monocle, which somehow, didn’t strike Haddock as being particularly odd. It was just unexpected.

   The Kaiju’s breath was warm against Haddock’s face. Apparently the professor hadn’t finished the Jaeger’s glass viewport in time for the battle. Though there was a cup holder. A glass of whisky rattled in it just out of reach. Haddock wondered how easy it would be to detach himself from his harness and retrieve the whisky.

   “No, no, Archie!”

   Haddock’s hand was slapped painfully. Tintin appeared out of nowhere in a gleaming, white pilot’s suit. A fat red tie was painted on the boy’s armor. Why would a redhead wear a red tie? It distracted from the natural beauty instead of complimenting it.

   “You know I don’t like the drinking.” Tintin wagged his finger in disapproval. The boy’s frown was replaced with a coy smile and Tintin shrugged.

   Did Tintin shrug? The thought tickled the back of Haddock’s brain. No, Tintin didn’t shrug. He did that thing with his hair.

   Tintin smoothed his quiff to oblige the Captain. “I’ll forgive you this one time. But only because you think I’m beautiful.”

   “I didn’t say that!” Haddock blurted.

   “Yes, you did.” Tintin’s black-gloved hands rested against the cracked armor on Haddock’s chest. “I’m an investigative journalist, remember? I know everything.”

   Haddock was naked. He knew it the moment he felt the smooth cloth of Tintin’s gloves against his chest. Then Tintin’s armor was gone. The Captain fixated on the naked hollow of the younger man’s throat. Tintin was close, inches away. Haddock could feel warm breath against his face. When he reached out to touch, his arms jerked to a stop; he was still bolted to the steering harness.

   “I’ve got you, Captain.” Haddock couldn’t decide if it was meant to be comforting. But before he could ask, Tintin leaned in and licked a searing line across the Captain’s mouth.

   Haddock bolted awake and smacked his head against the metal ceiling. The clang rang in his teeth. The usual nautical curse was eclipsed by a growl equal parts pain and frustration. Haddock punched the low ceiling in misguided retribution and didn’t even mind that the impulsive action hurt almost as badly as the head-butt.

   A flurry of motion caught Archibald’s attention. Next to the Captain’s unabused hand, Snowy wriggled playfully with his flat pink tongue bobbing.

   “YOU!” Haddock gnawed his lip before huffing out a massive breath. Snowy was not exactly who Haddock wanted to see after that kind of dream. Though he should be grateful it was just a dog that woke him and not an overly inquisitive redhead. Haddock grimaced at the cooling saliva on his face and wiped it away with the back of his hand. One part of the dream had been real. Thanks, Snowy. The Captain glared between the perky canine and the vertical ladder to his top bunk. “How the devil did you even get up here?”

   Snowy growled playfully and launched himself at the Captain in a flurry of squirming limbs and sloppy licks.

   “You’ve done enough damage,” Haddock growled sourly and firmly scooted Snowy to the foot of the bed. “Don’t you know not to wake a man when he’s in the middle of a dream?”

   Snowy’s tail made a frantic swishing sound as it wagged against Haddock’s sheets.

   “Not an once of remorse in that little body of yours, is there?”

   Snowy barked with enthusiasm.

   “You can find your own way down then.” Haddock backed down the ladder with a smug grin.

   By the Time Haddock’s feet touched the ground, Snowy had leapt from the bed to a bookcase to the desk and was already waiting impatiently on the floor. Haddock grunted. “Show off.”

   A cursory glance showed the bottom bunk was perfectly neat and empty. That was fine. Tintin’s location could wait until Haddock had taken care of some private business. The Captain made sure to lock a very pouty Snowy outside the bathroom door.

*****

   Haddock was surprised to find no one waiting outside the door to his room. That Chinese kid Chang and his partner didn’t seem to be keeping a very close eye on him. House arrest wasn’t so bad when you were confined to a compound the size of small town. Of course the size was going to make finding Tintin a challenge. Haddock whistled across the room to Snowy. After being ignored the entirety of Haddock’s (ridiculously) long shower, Snowy had taken up a lounging position on Tintin’s pillow. He cracked open a single eye when the Captain whistled again.

   “Come on, boy. You wanna help the old Captain find Tintin?”

   Snowy snorted. _“I’m not here for your convenience, you know!”_

   “Then maybe we could find some breakfast. A little bit of sausage for ya maybe. A piece of bacon.”

   _"Bacon? Oh, well in that case…"_ Snowy rose coolly from the pillow before trotting past the Captain, nose up in his best dignified posture. Haddock chuckled and then muttered a sincere prayer to keep him from running into any nut jobs today.

*****

   “Haddock asked me to be his copilot.”

   Tintin grunted when he hit the floor.

   Chang never let go of Tintin’s sleeve as he stared down at his friend. “Since when are you a Jaeger pilot?”

   “I’m not, but it was his idea."

   The training room was much more pleasent when there weren't dozens of crewmen watching and betting on you, Tintin noted. It was a perfect place to let Chang teach him a few more moves while the Captain slept.

   "I said yes,” Tintin confided from his place on the floor.

   “You agreed?” Chang helped Tintin to his feet. “Now I know you are crazy.”

   Tintin gripped Chang’s white tank top, carefully replicating the move that Chang had just demonstrated on him. Chang adjusted Tintin’s hands silently and nodded when they were correct. After noting the difference, Tintin resumed their conversation. “I don’t see how this is any more dangerous than what I normally do.”

   The training room was quiet save the shuffle of Tintin and Chang’s feet punctuated by a thud when Chang's body hit the old mat.

   “It is dangerous." Chang pointed out as he rolled to his feet. "But I said ‘crazy.’ Pilots go to an academy, complete rigorous tests, and are screened for neural compatibility. The process takes at least twenty-four weeks! The way you tell it, you picked a drunken man off the street and had half a wrestling match with him. Now you’re a team?”

   “Carpe diem?” Tintin suggested as he slid his feet into place to repeat the move.

   “I wish you wouldn’t. Tintin, I am serious.” Chang stopped Tintin with a gentle hand on the redhead’s forearm. “You are my greatest friend. I worry about you.”

   Tintin smiled and gave Chang’s hand a reassuring pat. “And that’s why I’m always extra careful.”

   Chang snorted delicately and shook his head, clearly not buying it. He sighed and readjusted Tintin’s stance. With a nod from Chang, Tintin spun and flipped Chang over his shoulder. Dust flew from the mat even under the impact of Chang’s slim body.

   Tintin helped Chang to his feet. “Are you still leaving today?”

   “Right after breakfast. Speaking of which…” Chang looked pointedly at Tintin’s watch.

   “Yeah, ok.” Tintin slipped into his loafers and waited while Chang quickly laced his green high tops. Sometimes Tintin wondered if his own style of sweaters and ties was a little too stuffy. But there was his professional image to consider.

   Tintin slipped his favorite blue sweater over his head. He adjusted his white collar underneath and rolled the sleeves up giving them an extra fond caress.  The sweater reminded him of Archibald Haddock’s trademark blue sweater with the anchor on it; the one Haddock wore during his Jaeger pilot days and apparently never stopped wearing. That’s why Tintin bought this particular color in the first place. Tintin scoffed at his own fanboyishness and tossed Chang a green windbreaker. “I scheduled our first neural synch.”

   Chang raised an eyebrow. So they had backtracked to Haddock. “I’m a little disappointed to miss it.”

   The Chinese boy’s movements were deliberate as he zipped his jacket. Tintin felt the comment welling between them before Chang even opened his mouth. “Tintin, while you’re in the Captain’s brain, perhaps-“

   “He’s innocent, Chang.”

   “I am only saying that you could help clear his name. No one can lie when they’re essentially sharing a brain.”

   Tintin nodded slowly. Once he and the Captain were linked, they’d share every experience, every memory, and every secret. If the Captain was involved in smuggling the Blue K drug, Tintin would know. But while Tintin was used to digging around for information, it was seldom handed to him in such a complete package. Just thinking about knowing another person so completely was a little unsettling. Even worse was the fact that Tintin had somewhat idolized Haddock for years. “I’ll let you know when I have proof that he’s innocent.”

   Chang’s laugh was as easy as his smile. “Fine then. I am afraid it’s time to go. Keep me updated and do not do anything reckless.”

   “I’ll keep that in the front of my mind.”

   “Goodbye, Tintin.”

   “Goodbye Chang. Good luck with your investigation.” They shared a warm hug with an extra squeeze for the road.

*****

   Captain Haddock waited patiently outside the training room. He’d managed to find Tintin easily enough despite the fact that Snowy abandoned him somewhere on this floor. But it seemed rude to stroll in during a sparring session. Especially when it was between the Captain’s newest copilot and a young man who suspected Haddock of smuggling drugs. Instead Haddock stood and worried over his hands. Their first neural synch was today. He’d overheard that much. It was an inescapable part of being copilots. After all, it took two brains connected by an electronic bridge to pilot a machine the size of a Jaeger safely. But Haddock had somehow forgotten to consider this in the sweeping excitement of piloting again; Tintin had a lot to do with this oversight. No one had been in Haddock’s head since his first copilot Allan. It wasn’t safe in there now. There were secrets and scars.

   “Good morning, Captain Haddock.”

   Haddock stared at Chang with wide eyes. Of course he’d pick this exit. Haddock did his miserable best to act natural. “Well, hello there. Chang was it?”

   Chang nodded politely. As soon as the two had a chance to sample the awkward silence, Chang pointed over his shoulder into the training room. “Tintin went that way.”

   “Thanks.”

   Haddock didn’t look back at Chang as he chased the vanishing form of Tintin.

   Chang smiled to himself. Drug smuggler or not, Haddock was as instantly loyal to Tintin as Tintin was to Haddock. For that, Chang was grateful.

*****

   “Ahoy, Tintin!”

   “Captain.” Tintin paused long enough to let Haddock catch up. “I was just coming to wake you. Are you feeling ok?”

   The level of concern was a little heavy for a casual morning salutation.

   “No hangover?” Tintin clarified for the puzzled Captain.

   “Ah, no.” Haddock mumbled with a twinge of embarrassment. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than a couple bottles of whiskey and an arrest to put me down.”

   The frown that followed reminded Haddock of dream Tintin’s earlier disapproval. Haddock's brain had the expression spot on, right down to the wrinkle of the boy's brow. Today it seemed Tintin had ditched the red tie for a sweater in an attractive shade of blue. Haddock cleared his throat uncomfortably. “So, anything on the itinerary for today?”

   It seemed Tintin was at least graceful in allowing for a subject change.  “Professor Calculus is setting up our first neural test run. I thought we should prove our drift compatibility before we continue with anything else.”

   “A very good idea!” Haddock may have been too enthusiastic in pretending he hadn’t already overheard the plan. Too late to underplay it. Best press ahead with his plan to postpone the neural drift. “But listen, Tintin…”

   Tintin came to a full stop and fixed the Captain with a blank stare. The young man waited patiently, keeping any judgment or irritation from his face. How did he do that?

   "What is it you want to say, Captain?"

   Haddock stared for a moment. Blue was a very complimentary color on the boy. Haddock cleared his throat reflexively and pressed on. “It's about the drift, Tintin. There’s really no reason to rush into it. I mean the Karrier Boudjan-“

   “Castafiore Emerald.”

   “Right. The _Jaeger_ won’t even be completed for weeks, probably months. There’s no hurry.”

   “Captain, is there a particular reason you’d rather not drift with me?”

   Well, several actually. Of course, saying so would make him guilty in many ways. If they could put off the brain interface for a while, maybe Haddock could find a way omit certain memories from the drift. Captain Haddock offered his most innocent face. “It’s just that first drifts can be rough and I wouldn’t want to rush you into anything you aren’t ready for.”

   Nothing was quite as scary as Tintin’s stare. His face was as still as a mask, but his eyes were doing dangerous things. “Let’s see if Calculus is ready now.”

   Haddock's head snapped back like a strartled animal. “Now? Right now? What about breakfast?”

   “Breakfast can wait. I’m ready now. I want to set your mind at ease.”

   Haddock was trapped. Any more protests would seem suspicious, though Tintin was already obviously wary. Was it too late to fake a massive hangover?

   “Professor Calculus is just around the corner.”

   Before Haddock could think up a suitable lie or excuse, Tintin linked his arm with the Captain’s. Haddock stared dumbly at the two shades of blue at his elbow. Joined like an old married couple, Tintin led Haddock around the corner to certain doom.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we gonna talk about Haddock's past!?! ...eh, kinda...also snippets of family-based angst and the shortest Kaiju battle ever.  
> *****

   “Professor Calculus?” It was more of a formality than a question as Tintin and Haddock entered the room. The near-deaf professor never would have heard Tintin even if he was there, which he didn’t seem to be.

   “I wonder where he’s gotten to,” Tintin mused aloud as he scanned the crowded room. It was similar enough to every room in the Shatterdome with its metal walls and concrete floor, but it looked as if some kind of junkyard had been unceremoniously dumped there. Cast off chunks of metal where piled so high, they would have given Calculus’s monstrous laser a run for title of Most Ridiculous-Looking Pile of Scrap.

   “I know he was here this morning,” Tintin spoke as he peered around corners.

   “Ah, well. I suppose we’ll have to wait another day.” Haddock turned on his heel and strode back out the door, or he would have if Tintin didn’t have a tight grip on the Captain’s arm. Tintin shot Haddock a stern look. The Captain sighed dejectedly.

   Tintin took it as a sign of resignation and released his death grip.

   In the center of the room hung a mass of steel and wires that looked suspiciously like a pilot’s harness. Haddock scowled at it. Tintin threaded his way through the piles of stuff until he could poke his head into a small glass anteroom.

   “You suppose he’ll pop out of a heap of junk with another death ray?” Haddock kicked aside a tangle of wires.

   “Please, Captain,” Tintin smiled as if the notion was ridiculous, “Calculus only tests weapons in his personal lab.”

   Haddock’s snort caught in his throat.

   “Crumbs,” Tintin muttered after a full, fruitless circuit of the room, “I suppose we will have to come back later.”

   Haddock tried not to look ecstatic but his grin was doing a horrible job of cooperating.

   “Don’t be so pleased,” Tintin scolded. “One might think you really had no intention of letting me be your copilot.”

   Haddock’s grin faltered. “No, I meant it, Tintin. Really. It’s only that-“

   Whatever confession Haddock was willing to make was interrupted by a shout from the doorway.

   “Blistering Barnacles!”

   Haddock was shocked by his words coming from someone else’s mouth. He turned and shuddered. “Abdulah.”

   He recognized the brat even without his pilot’s armor on. Abdullah wore a set of black robes which did a much better job of announcing the teenager as desert royalty. And though the devious smile was the same, the decidedly Western sunglasses were new. Abdullah was already across the room and stretching up to point irritatingly into Haddock’s face. “What happened yesterday, BB? You disappointed a lot of people when you ran off.”

   “I try to tell him match is on hold,” Alcazar called as he strolled through the door clad in tan fatigues and combat boots. Haddock grumbled to himself. Apparently his prayer against nutjobs had been ineffective.

   “The match isn’t on hold, General,” Tintin chimed in. “Call it a tie.”

   “No one makes money in a tie.” Alcazar scowled around his already lit cigar. “But is alright. We make more bets today, si?”

   “More bets!” Haddock thundered.

   “There’s a pot for the man who comes closest to your compatibility percentage.” Abdullah eyed Haddock over the rim of his sunglasses. “If you could hit a 97%, I might be willing to split the pot.”

   “Do not worry, amigos. Abdullah and I will stay out of your way.”

   Haddock opened his mouth to politely inform Abdullah and Alcazar that there was no way in a Kaiju infested version of Hell that they would be allowed to stay and watch. Professor Calculus just happened to enter the room carrying an overloaded box of wires and cut the Captain short. “Oh! Tintin, Haddock! Are you here for the neural synch?”

   “Yes, Professor.” Tintin nodded eagerly both because they could finally begin and because now they could get away from Abdullah and Alcazar.

   Calculus nodded to the prince and the general. “And, I take it, they’re here to observe?”

   Two ‘no’s and two ‘yes’s echoed in the cluttered room.

   The professor’s smile seemed slightly confused but he nodded anyway. “I just need another moment to set up the program. If you’d wait by that pilot’s apparatus, gentlemen.”

   Apparently the mess of steel and wires in the middle of the room _was_ a pilot’s harness…of sorts.

   Tintin’s face was stern as he motioned for the reluctant Haddock to go first. The professor scuttled past and disappeared into the anteroom. When Alcazar and Abdullah followed eagerly, Captain Haddock clenched his fists and worked himself up for what was sure to be an impressive litany. A single hand on his arm was all it took to calm him.

   “Don’t bother, Captain,” Tintin all but sighed. “You’d spend all day trying to talk those two into changing their mind.”

   Haddock scowled. If they were going to have witnesses, he had better come up with some kind of plan quickly.

   “Here you are, Captain.” Professor Calculus returned to the main room carrying two boxes, both slightly larger than the one he’d disappeared with. “Your neural suit.”

   Haddock opened the offered box and his scowl deepened. “Where’s the rest of it?”

   “Don’t worry,” Calculus patted the Captain’s slightly protruding gut, “one size fits all.”

   “Not ‘FIT’,” Haddock ground between teeth. “I said ‘where’s the REST. OF. IT?”

   Haddock held up two short, black gloves and a mess of straps with little white disks on them. It was hardly the full body suit a pilot normally wore for a neural synch or combat simulation.

   “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Calculus nodded sagely. “We all put on a little weight now and then. The straps are adjustable. Here let me show you.”

   “Show him!” Haddock spat in frustration and gestured wildly at Tintin.

   “Why don’t I show you how it works on Tintin first?”

   “Blistering Barnacles!”

   Abdullah’s laugh echoed from inside the glass anteroom.

   Professor calculus left one box in Haddock’s white knuckled hands and used the contents of the other to suit up Tintin. The gloves were straight-forward, but the straps seemed like a bunch of nothing to the Captain. He glanced over at Tintin.

   “That one probably goes around either knee.” Tintin helpfully pointed to the strap in Haddock’s clenched hand.

   “Of course!” Haddock bobbed his head sarcastically.

   After some struggling and curses (each of which seemed to wildly entertain their two unwanted observers), Haddock’s accessories managed to wind up looking more or less like Tintin’s. It was just a strap across each knee, elbow, and foot. Simple really.

   “Don’t forget your monitor.” Tintin tapped the somewhat complicated looking disk over his heart. Haddock had wondered what that three strap monstrosity was. Tintin motioned to another disk clipped to the front pocket of his tan slacks. “There’s another motion sensing piece here.”

   Haddock grumbled but sorted himself out before Calculus could offer to help again. The professor finished adjusting the last of Tintin’s straps and surveyed Haddock with approval. After a little rummaging through the pockets of his lab coat, Calculus pulled out what looked like three oversized suction cups and stuck them unceremoniously on Haddock’s forehead.

   “What are these gizmos?” Haddock pulled one off to look at it.

   Calculus plucked the device from Haddock’s fingers and stuck it back on with enough force to rock Haddock back on his heels. “Captain, that’s a very sophisticated device, not a toy. Leave it alone!”

   Haddock rubbed the space between devices sheepishly. Tintin seemed amused by the scolding even as the professor placed a matching set of cups below the young journalist’s hairline.

   “This Shatterdome is woefully inadequate in its possession of basic simulators.” Calculus secured a wire to the metal bolt protruding from each suction cup on Tintin’s forehead. “I’ve had to do some improvising.”

   Tintin and Haddock shared a mildly skeptical look.

   “But it’s rather simple technology. Nothing a trip to the mess hall couldn’t procure.”

   Tintin and Haddock’s shared look that was nothing short of alarmed.

   Haddock wondered if Calculus raided a fridge and oven for parts or if there was somehow actual food involved. A bead of sweat stung the Captain’s eye. What if this super sophisticated brain-to-brain interface was being powered by a sack of potatoes?

   “That ought to do it.” Calculus nodded to himself as he connected the last wire from Tintin’s forehead to an admittedly sleek-looking headset. The headset was then plugged into the main body of the pilots’ harness with a long cable. “A little crude but that’s what you get on such short notice. Your turn, Captain.”

   Tintin watched Haddock carefully. The man seemed to wince with each wrap of a wire. Sweat broke out along Haddock’s brow. Tintin stopped adjusting the microphone wrapped around his cheek. “Captain, if you really don’t want to…”

   Haddock grunted. It was almost annoying how considerate Tintin could be. Even after all the cajoling and stern looks, Tintin was still willing to let Haddock back out. But deep down, Haddock knew he couldn’t just drink himself silly and stumble away from his problems for the rest of his life. Besides, he had a plan now. “Trust me, Tintin. It’s now or never.”

   Tintin’s grin was almost worth the violent thumping of Haddock’s heart.

   Professor Calculus finished double checking a few of the connections and beamed like a child on Christmas morning. “Is everyone ready?”

   Haddock had barely even nodded before Calculus was scampering off to the anteroom. The Captain repositioned his headset nervously and nodded to Tintin. “You’ve never done this before right?”

   Tintin offered Haddock another one of those oddly reassuring smiles. “No, but I’m pretty familiar with the idea. I interviewed a pair of pilots once.”

   Haddock wasn’t surprised.

   “I had the exclusive when Chang and Didi returned from their first battle,” Tintin elaborated. “Chang warned not to fixate on any one memory during the drift.”

   “Right,” even the mention of Chang made Haddock prickly, “just let them flow. It’s kind of like daydreaming, don’t try to think. You can turn off that brain of yours, can’t you?”

   Tintin considered it. “I do a bit of yoga. I think I can manage.”

   Good. Then all Haddock had to do was not think of that one specific memory and he’d be in the clear.

   “Here we go!” Calculus’ voice startled Tintin and Haddock as it burst from their headphones. “Initiating the neural bridge in ten seconds.”

   Haddock closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He outlined his life carefully. Childhood, school, running off to sea, becoming Captain, running off to Jaeger Academy, piloting the Karrie Boudjan, resigning, returning to the sea, meeting Tintin in San Francisco. Haddock repeated it over and over. If he focused only on these general ideas, maybe he could trick his brain and cause it to omit things from the drift. He’d never heard of it being done but it was worth a shot.

   As Calculus counted down to three, Haddock cycled through his mantra desperately.

   childhood, sea, Captain, pilot, resignation, Captain, Tintin

   “Two.”

   Captain, Karrie Boudjan, Tintin

   “One.”

   before Tintin, after Tintin

   “Initiating.”

   A neural synch always began with the impression of one’s brain being pulled back through the eye of needle. On the other side, consciousness was thrown into the vague, endless space of the drift. Two lifetimes worth of memories, emotions, and dreams cluttered the space between two brains. It was impossible to see each one, like trying to focus on each page of a flipbook drawn in the corner of a dictionary. Every sensation was there and gone before it could be fully explored but created the living picture of another person. It was danger and fear, victory and contentment, the smell of the sea and the click of computer keys in the space of seconds. Everything slammed to a stop and left Haddock and Tintin floating in that space where Jaeger pilots shared a single mind.

   When the roar of past experiences settled to allow for present thought, Captain Haddock opened his eyes. To Haddock’s right, Tintin looked more than a little amazed. Now that they were synched, Tintin wasn’t just some righteous journalist with a little martial arts training. Tintin was a fiercely independent young man who’d lied about his age to get his first reporter’s assignment in Russia, someone who paid for an apartment but barely stayed in it, a child who’d lost his parents years ago in the first Kaiju attack on San Francisco…

… their first trip to the United States…

   …a family vacation that left Tintin with nothing but a return ticket to Europe and a childhood in foster homes…

   The feeling triggered more memories; Haddock’s mother wasting away before being claimed by an illness, a father who drank entirely too much afterward, a grandfather who worked himself into an early grave to give his family a legacy worth something, Haddock’s own alcoholism as a last coping mechanism.

   Loss and regret passed between Tintin and Haddock like an echo.

   “Wonderful!” Calculus’ voice interrupted the shared drudge down memory lane. “The connection is strong. Are you both alright?”

   Haddock knew Tintin’s answer before the boy even began to nod. “We’re both fine here. It feels good.”

   And it did. Satisfaction reverberated from Tintin’s side of the connection and it made Haddock smile in turn. The warmth built between them until Haddock imagined he could swim in it.

   “Speak up, Captain. It seems your microphone is a little weak.”

   Haddock and Tintin shared a mental chuckle.

   “Never mind. I’ve adjusted the volume on my end. We can proceed with a battle simulation, if you’re ready.”

   “We’re ready,” Haddock confirmed. He noticed Abdullah and Alcazar cringed and covered their ears in the glass anteroom.

   _Adjusted the volume, eh?_

   Haddock’s internal smirk was met by a chastisement from Tintin.

   _Don’t even think about shouting in their ears, Captain._

Haddock harrumphed but promised.

   There was a muffled whirring noise. Haddock’s view of the anteroom’s inhabitants was disrupted by a seascape that sprang up in startling detail. Haddock couldn’t even guess which pile of junk held the actual projectors. Even though he knew it was a projection, the seasoned Captain remembered the scent of the real thing. Tintin had a similar memory, though the journalist-turned-Jaeger-pilot had a much less nostalgic recollection of the smell. Apparently the kid had once been stranded in a floating sarcophagus in open waters. That could certainly color a person’s perception.

   “You’ve lived a strange life, Tintin.” The Captain grinned at his new copilot.

   “So have you.” Tintin shared one of the Captain’s own memories, a battle where he’d harpooned a fast-swimming Kaiju and been dragged along several miles in the Karrie Boudjan.

   “I’m never going to live that one down,” Haddock mumbled.

   “For the battle simulation, we’ll select a random Kaiju from the database,” Calculus explained over the headset.

   The seascape projection was framed by a heads-up-display. Familiar but different, an updated version of the Karrier Budjan’s HUD.

   “Here we go!” the Professor cackled.

   Haddock, with his experience at sea, noticed it first. There was a swell in water that was not caused by normal weather or wave patterns.

   “There it is, Tintin.”

   “I see it.”

   The game plan passed between their mental link. Without having to say a word out loud, the simulated Jaeger smoothly stepped to the side as the Kaiju breached the ocean’s surface and threw itself in the space where the Jaeger had been. The jump gave Tintin and Haddock just enough time to get a look at the monster. Its head was shaped like a giant spear. Forearms were small but the hind legs were built for powerful lunges.

 _Chang and Didi killed this Kaiju off the coast of Taiwan two years ago_.

   On the tail of that thought from Tintin, Haddock caught a glimpse of Chang himself.

      _training, physical, warm, Chang, young Chang, drowning, panic_

   Tintin gave a physical start and Haddock realized he’d pulled that memory forward and startled his partner. Haddock focused on the simulated battle around them and let the thought drift away.

_sorry_

That was all it took for Haddock to apologize and snap Tintin back into the battle. A glance at the HUD gave no indication of the Kaiju’s current position.

   “Where-“ Tintin was cut off by a direct blow to their right arm. The Kaiju scraped along the Jaeger’s chest in its arc over the water, the fin on its back obscured Haddock and Tintin’s view for just a moment before it slipped back under the water as quickly as it had struck. The HUD burst into a frenzy of flashing lights and damage summaries. They’d lost power to the whole limb in one go. Warning sirens blared over the headphones. Haddock cringed at the familiar sound.

      _“Fucking pay attention!”_

   Haddock stared dumbly at the armor clad man to his right.

    _tall, gruff, flat-nosed_

   “Allan?”

      _Allan?_

Haddock felt the spark from Tintin. The need to know.

   “Don’t!” Even as Haddock said it, Tintin was already digging.

      _“Botched another one, Archie.” Allan’s eyes are dark, face red. “Our fuckin Jaeger’s down for three months!”_

   “Tintin stop.”

      _Tintin stop_

_smokey, dim, swordfish above the bar, worst whisky, sour, a thigh against his, light touches on his neck_

_let it go Tintin_

_drunk_

_a boy, eager boy, attractive, soft-spoken, brassy, young_

_so drunk_

_musty, squeaking, curses, moans_

       _sharp shoulder blades, young, too young, too young_

_pictures, of boy, of Haddock, pictures, shame, ruined_

“Stop!” Haddock’s emotion, the familiar burn of betrayal and devastation, flooded the connection and pushed Tintin’s curious presence away. Anger built a harsh wall around Haddock’s memory just before the neural connection shattered completely.

   Tintin cried out in pain and the Captain cursed as every memory and emotion was forcefully crammed back into its respective owner’s brain.

   Haddock ripped the cups from his forehead and barely resisted the urge to crush the whole headset as he dragged it off. The projection with its HUD and seascape where gone leaving a room full of junk and three very surprised and confused faces behind a large pane of glass. Abdullah raised a single finger and Alcazar darted for the anteroom door. Haddock’s face was screwed up as he focused on the simple act of breathing after such a mental strain. The neural bridge's collapse left a stinging pain in the Captain's head and he rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to sooth it. General Alcazar suddenly barreled under the pilot's harness and pushed Haddock roughly out of his path.

   “Watch it!” Haddock snapped and glared at the General. Only then did he realize Alcazar’s destination was the space to Haddock’s right.

   “The monitor isn’t reading anything!” Calculus called from the anteroom.

   “What happened?” Abdullah demanded.

   Haddock didn’t want to look. Couldn’t look. His stomach grew cold, he forced himself to look. Tintin’s headset swayed in a dizzy circle as it dangled from the pilots’ rig overhead. Beneath, Tintin lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. Alcazar knelt and rolled Tintin onto his back before placing an ear to the young man’s chest.

   “Tintin?” Haddock’s voice was tight.

   The General held a hand up to quiet Haddock.

   “Is alright,” Alcazar final muttered with relief, “I hear his heart still.”

   Haddock joined Alacazar on the floor, ducking under the still-swinging headset. With a little shuffling, Haddock managed to check Tintin’s head and determine it, luckily enough, hadn’t cracked against the floor. He gently propped Tintin’s head in his lap and smoothed the boy’s furrowed brow.

   “What did you do?” Alcazar stared from underneath thick brows.

   Haddock’s mouth hung mute. He hadn’t meant to push that hard.

   “I’ve called the medics. They’ll be here any moment. Did anyone check his heart?”

   “Is alright, Calculus!” Alcazar gave Calculus the universal sign for ‘ok’ and waved for Abdullah and Calculus to join them. “He’s just unconscious.”

   Calculus fussed and muttered about recalculations as he paced and examined the whole length of the room. Abdullah simply crossed his arms and smirked as he surveyed the downed redhead. With a barking laugh and a toss of his head, the prince turned his shades toward Haddock.

   “So," Abdullah smirked, "did anyone bet on total failure?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's not a Tintin adventure until he's unconscious, right?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to all the poor souls I made wait. Your eagerness is acknowledged and you have my apologies. We're finally dealing with the Cap's dirty laundry.

   _Tintin’s fingers raked along naked skin and gathered perspiration under his nails. He rocked into the body under him with enough force to make the musty bed creek under the strain. The boy below was skinny and it was difficult to tell by sound alone whether he was enjoying himself or suffering. Tintin did not stop to clarify. Heat lanced through Tintin’s brain and he slammed his eyes shut in time with his final thrust._

_When he opened his eyes, he was no longer hunched over sharp shoulder blades and sweaty curls. Tintin was on his back, throat bared, legs spread wide and-_

_Tintin gasped as a single drop of sweat rolled from Captain Haddock’s forehead above him and splashed against his own cheek._

   Tintin bolted into consciousness with the heaving cough of a man nearly drowned.  He had just enough presence of mind to grab the bunk slats above his head to prevent an immediate collapse back into his pillow. That had not just been a dream. It was a vision. That was him? No. That was Haddock. He was Haddock. It was _Haddock's_ memory, not _Tintin's_ though it had skewed to something not quite memory at the end. Tintin clung tighter to the bunk above and brought his other hand up to cradle his swimming head.

   The sensation hit him again. Something in his brain that was not _him._ Not images this time but impressions of emotions. The Captain’s panic. The pain and the anger, and Allan’s capacity to cause it…the emotions tied to that one memory… Tintin was obviously not meant to see that.

   “You’re awake!” The Captain’s voice barreled through Tintin’s brain like a runaway train and Tintin curled into himself with a grunt.

   That voice was real, not imagined. Haddock scrambled from somewhere near Tintin’s feet with a head splitting racket. “Tintin I’m so sorry!”

   Tintin jerked his arm instinctively out of Haddock’s apologetic reach. He couldn’t stand to be any closer at the moment. Traces of the Captain’s mind still interrupted Tintin’s thought processes as if they were the reporter’s actual memories and not just remnants of Haddock. Where he’d been, the things he’d done all seemed to conflict. He needed another moment to sort out who he was.  The first concrete block to make up Tintin’s sense of self was the knowledge that everything hurt.

   “Did I get hit in the head?” Tintin’s usual tenor voice was eclipsed by something that sounded like an eighty-year-old chain smoker. "Where are we?"

   "We're back in your room. And your head..."Haddock went from relieved and repentant to straight self-loathing in record time. “You hit it on the floor when you blacked out."

   "But...why did I..." It was difficult to remember.

   "I broke our link.” Haddoc's voice was a subdued rumble. "I didn't mean to. It was so stupid of me! There might be some side effects."

   Side effects. Undoubtedly. The link? Yes, they had been in the middle of a simulation when Tintin blundered into the memory of Allan. Which then led to the seedy bar and the sexual encounter that carried the weight of so much shame in Haddock’s mind. The act had been morally dubious at best but Allan…

   “Oh, Captain.” Tintin couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

   Haddock’s posture stiffened in defense and his face heated in some mixture of anger and shame. His voice shook with the strain. “Well go ahead! That’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

   Tintin cringed. Yes, he had wanted the information. He had pried that memory open with intent.

   “You know everything now,” Haddock’s face twisted in a pain so sharp it made Tintin wince in sympathy.  “So go on. Say it!”

   The Captain rose hastily to his feet and stared at Tintin. He challenged- no, demanded- Tintin lay out his findings.

   The lump was hard to swallow around in Tintin’s throat. Tintin met the Captain’s hardened eyes with no hesitation but with no measure of enjoyment either. A journalist should stick to the facts. “You didn’t abandon the Karrie Budgeoun because you had an affair with a married woman. It was a man. A young man.”

   “Underage is the word you’re looking for,” Haddock spat. “Depraved. Illegal. All of those are appropriate words.”

   “You were dunk.” Tintin was surprised by how quickly that poured from his mouth. But it wasn’t an accusation. The reporter impulsively meant it as a reassurance and defense. It sounded a horrid, paltry excuse in his own ears.

   “That doesn’t make it any less illegal. Only better fits the theme of my life!” Haddock paced half the room anxiously before collapsed in the desk chair, all the life seemed to go out of him in a single, great gust of breath. The emotions were still raw on Tintin, logically so, having just discovered the hidden circumstances. And yet the Captain obviously suffered as if it all had occurred yesterday and not years ago. “Allan introduced me to the boy. Some big fan who wanted to have a drink in a private room. Didn't know his age until Allen threw it in my face afterward. Never even asked. He didn't look that young. Scrawny but older looking than you. I don’t even know who the kid was. We were half drunk before I even got his first name and then we were-”

   “I saw the rest.”  Tintin chose to cut off the tale. There could be no good in reliving it again, for either of them. The journalist’s stomach already gave an uneasy flip at the thought.

   Haddock swallowed noisily. He was at a loss for what to do, other than wait for Tintin to throw him out of the room. Maybe he’d call those two ridiculously identical copyright fanatics or turn the information over to the Chinese investigator. Regardless, Haddock was irrepairably ruined. His one wild hope at scraping together a decent honest life, dashed again.

   “Allan blackmailed you, didn’t he?” Tintin hadn’t seen that memory but given Haddock’s reaction to Allan, his reaction to Tintin during their first meeting, it was very easy to fill in the blanks. “That’s why you asked if Allan sent me. You thought I was bait for some new trap.”

   “Yes. That man ruined me. Documented the whole debased thing.” Haddock’s fingers curled reflexively as if tightening around a bottle of whisky that wasn’t there.  “We struck a deal. He’d keep the photographs secret if I surrendered the Karrie Budjoun and all her rights. Then he invented the tale about the director’s wife to force my sudden retirement. Just icing on the cake for him.”

   “If you’d only turned yourself in…” Tintin frowned. It certainly wouldn’t have been pleasant. There would have been legal ramifications and the following scandal would be difficult to recover from but Tintin had seen politician’s make more spectacular returns.

   Haddock waved the notion away. “Jaeger pilots are military contractors, subject to termination for acts of misconduct. Jeagers are weapons. Civilians cannot legally own a Jaeger. I couldn’t have kept the Karrie Budjoun even if I’d gone to jail.”

   “I’m sorry, Captain.”

   “Sorry?” Haddock snorted. “Not disgusted?”

   Tintin inclined his head ever so slightly as he thought. “I’m not saying you’re blameless, but you were obviously tricked. What Allan did was illegal.”

   Haddock’s expression was wide and slack with shock. This was not at all like he’d expected this conversation to go. “Yeah, but you’re not repulsed by what I did? With a boy?”

   “You obviously didn’t know he was underage at the time.” Tintin was incredulous to find himself explaining this to the Captain. And then the blatently obvious _other_ concern hit Tintin’s addled brain. “And if it’s about being gay, don’t worry yourself. Captain, you are not the first gay celebrity. Believe me. I have some…experience in that field as well.”

   Archibald Haddock sat statue still, his mouth gaped as if he wanted to say something and cut himself off mid word. He waited expectantly.

   Haddock had been forced to surrender the one event he’d tried to keep hidden and Tintin was a journalist who did, in fact, know how to pay for the information he received.  “My choice in sexual partners happens to be one of print’s best kept secrets.”

   The tips of Tintin’s ears were blazing by the time he finished his thinly veiled confession. And if the Captain could only see the way Tintin’s own brain had taken Haddock’s memory and twisted it into the idea of a naked, sweat-soaked Haddock looming over Tintin…the rest of Tintin’s face bloomed in near painful heat.

   Just as they’d made some progress in trusting each other, everything else about this partnership seemed to be getting harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew  
> silliness in the next chapter


End file.
